ANDE 
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ANDE 
TREMBATH 


To  My  Friend 

The  Right  Rev.  Cortlandt  Whitehead,  S.T.D. 
Bishop  of  Pittsburgh 

In  memory  of  pleasant  hours  spent  together 
at  *'  Burgtown," 


I 


w€€€'C'^'^*^*^'^'^'^"C'^'^'^'^"C*lx 


ANDE  TREMBATH 


I  Ande  Trembath  I 


^ 


A  TALE  OF 


Old  Cornwall  England 


Br 


Matt.    Stan.    Kemp 

Author  of 
*'£OSS  TOM" 


C.  M.  CLARK  PUBLISHING  CO.,  Inc. 
BOSTON,  MASS.,   U.S.A. 

1905 


Copyright,    1905,  by 

C.  M.   CLARK  PUBLISHING  CO.,  Inc. 

BOSTON,  MASS.,   U.S.A. 


Entered  at 
STATIONER'S  HALL,   LONDON 

Foreign   Copyrights  Secured 


All  Rights  Reserved 


URLf 
SRLF^ 


Contents 

CHAPTERS 

PAGE 

I     A  Calamity  at  the  Manor     .  1      j/k 

II     The  Son  of  a  Traitor         .  ^^     /I\ 

III  The  Runaway                       .  26     ^j\^ 

IV  The    Primrose    Cottage    and 

Tom  Glaze             .          .  31 
V     "The  Big  Ha'   Bible  Ance 

His  Father's  Pride          .  41 

VI     Squire  and  Parliamentarian  .  46 

VII     Tea-table  Politics        .         .  55 

VIII     *' OfF  With  His  Head "    ,  66 

IX     The  VUlage  Stocks    .          .  73 

X     Reparation         .          .          .  77 

XI     Defeat   of  Bully  Bob  Sloan  87 

XII     Christmas  and  Christmas  Play  98 

XIII  The  Cornish  Droll-teller       .  113 

XIV  St.   George  and  Fair    Sabra  123 
XV     The    Helston     Grammar 

School           ...  135 

XVI     The  Hurling  Match            .  146 

XVII     The  Smugglers'  Battle        ,  160 

XVIII     The  Duck  Cave    Adventure  173 

XIX     Creakle's  Revenge       .          .  185 

XX     Adrift  On  the  Deep            .  197 

XXI     Around  the  Tavern's  Flaming 

Grate             .          .          .  214 


Contents 


/6 


CHjiPTERS 

PAGE 

XXII  The  Lycamahoning           .  240 

XXIII  The  Raft  Pilot's  Home     .  253 

XXIV  The  Hunter  of  the  Loop  261 
XXV  Eureka!   The  Eldorado!    .  266 

XXVI  The  Rising     .         .          .  285 

XXVII  The  Secret  of  the  SnufF  Box  293 

XXVIII  Misfortunes     .          .          .  313 

XXIX  Tom  Glaze  to  the  Rescue  327 

XXX  TheMajor'sHome-Coming  334 

XXXI  Ande's  Revenge      .         .  355 

XXXn  Christmas  In  the  Old  Hall  875 


m 


w 


SUustrattonfij 


JFrontispiece 


Ande   Trembath 

PAGE 


*  *  There  was  a  vision  of  a  flying,  athletic, 

youthful  form  —  clinging  with  the 

grip  of  a  vice  —  "    .  .  .  27 

**  It's  a  compact,  said  the  former  "      .  54 

"Yes,  give  three  hoots  for  the  red- 
'eaded  Deane  and  all  his  traitor 
hancestors "     .  .  .  .  89 

*'  I  am  that  Knight,  said  Ande,  warmly  "         128 

*•  They  say  you  are  the  son  of  a  traitor"  189 

**  The  old   hunter  straightened  up  as  if 

shot,  and  gazed  at  them  "  .  250 

**  Sweet  bird  of  the  wilderness,  sweet  is 

thy  song"        ....  302 

**  The  door  was  opened,  and  the  gleam 
of  candle  light  shot  over  all  con- 
cerned "  ....         332 

♦  <  He  opened  his  speech  in  clear,  ringing 

tones"  ....  364 


ANDE    TREMBATH 

CHAPTER  I 

A  CALAMITY  AT  THE  MANOE 

**  Never  before  in  the  history  of  the  Manor  have 
deeds  like  these  been  perpetrated,"  said  the  squire,  his 
genial,  rubicund  countenance  turning  pale  with  anger. 

"  Prithee,  prithee,  cool  thyself ;  look  at  the  affair 
calmly  and  you  will  speedily  discover  the  rogue,"  replied 
the  parson. 

"  Cool  myself !  "  replied  the  squire,  in  some  heat ;  "  it  is 
easy  enough  to  talk,  but  this  is  the  third  offence  in  a 
week.  Last  Monday  the  tulip  beds  and  shrubbery  were 
trampled  and  ruined ;  Wednesday,  the  fish-pond  drained 
and  the  best  fish  secured;  and  last  night,  the  unknown 
miscreant  killed  poor,  faithful  Borlase.  It  is  becoming 
unbearable," — and  the  squire,  with  angry  features  and 
the  semblance  of  a  tear  in  his  eye,  knelt  down  by  the 
body  of  the  English  mastiff  to  convince  himself  again 
that  the  life  of  his  canine  friend  was  extinct. 

The  scene  was  in  a  remote  comer  of  the  gardens  of  an 
old  Cornish  manor  estate.  Some  distance  away,  looming 
up  above  the  nodding  heads  of  trees,  were  the  gables 
and  chimney  pots  of  the  squire's  residence.  Near  a 
clump  of  shrubbery  was  the  kneeling  form  of  the  squire, 
with  flushed  face  and  unsteady  hand,  for  his  soul  was 
trembling  with  indignation,  examining  the  head  of  his 


2  ANDE    TREMBATH 

slain,  four-footed  friend.  The  parson,  with  dignified 
step,  was  closely  scrutinising  the  ground  between  the 
squire  and  the  road-side  hedge. 

"  Ah !  Here,  do  you  see  ?  Here  is  where  the  missile 
struck  him."  It  was  the  squire  who  spoke,  for  he  had 
found  a  long  deep  gash  near  the  right  ear. 

"  From  what  I  can  see,"  said  the  parson,  who  was  a 
keen  observer,  "  the  rogue  was  making  for  the  hedge, 
the  most  natural  deduction,  the  hedge  being  the  nighest 
escape  from  the  dog.  Then,"  he  continued,  with  homilet- 
ical  precision  as  if  outlining  a  pulpit  theme,  "  since  the 
dog  followed  him,  he  must  have  hurled  some  missile  at 
him.  What  more  natural  missile  than  a  stone,  and  what 
more  natural  place  to  secure  it  than  from  the  hedge? 
Now  the  missile  must  be  around  here  somewhere.  Ah! 
Here  it  is,"  and  Parson  Trant  picked  up  a  good  sized 
stone  from  amidst  the  shrubbery.  "  There  is  blood  upon 
it;  proof,  number  one;  now  let  us  discover  its  place  in 
the  hedge." 

The  squire  arose  and  accompanied  the  parson  to  the 
hedge  and,  after  a  minute  examination,  the  stone's 
former  location  was  discovered. 

"  So  far,^good,"  ejaculated  the  parson.  "  Now  what 
servants  would  be  most  likely  around  the  gardens  last 
evening  ?  " 

"  Tut,  tut,  you  would  never  make  a  barrister,  parson. 
To  suspect  any  of  my  servants !  You  are  well  versed  in 
theology,  and  no  one  knows  better  how  to  preach  a  ser- 
mon, but  in  matters  of  law  and  trespass  we,  magistrates, 
must  take  the  precedence." 


CALAMITY     AT     THE     MANOR       3 

Now  at  times  Squire  Vivian  could  be  as  genial  and 
pleasant  as  the  sun  on  a  June-tide  morning.  Kind- 
hearted,  generous,  frank,  bluff,  with  a  rough  veneer  of 
the  old-time  courtesy  was  the  old  squire,  and  yet  with  a 
choleric  spirit  underneath  all,  that  would  sometimes  burst 
forth  into  passionate  invective,  to  the  scandal  of  his 
friends  and  to  his  own  aftertime  regret.  Add  to  this  a 
dignified  opinion  of  his  position  as  a  landed  magistrate 
and  the  squire  of  Trembath  Manor  is  evident.  He  had 
a  goodly  amount  of  hard  English  sense  and  in  managing 
his  estates  and  finances  had  been  tolerably  successful,  but 
in  sharp  penetration  of  character  and  shrewd  judg- 
ment in  other  affairs,  he  was  lamentably  deficient.  His 
frank  and  open  nature  had  not  given  him  much  chance 
to  develop  these  talents,  even  had  he  ever  possessed  them, 
and,  like  many  persons  whose  positions  require  talents  in 
which  they  are  lacking,  or  at  best  but  meagrely  gifted, 
the  squire  felt  vexed  when  his  little  magisterial  keenness 
was  surpassed. 

"  Tut,  tut,  parson,  you  are  losing  your  judgment  if 
you  suspect  the  servants.  There's  old  George  Sloan,  the 
hostler,  and  Ned  Pengilly,  the  gardener,  the  only  two 
persons  likely  to  be  on  the  grounds  at  that  time,  and  they 
loved  old  Borlase, — ay, — even  better  than  they  love  his 
master.    No,  no,  parson,  you  are  at  fault  there." 

Parson  Trant  smiled,  for  he  knew  one  of  the  chief 
failings  in  the  squire's  character. 

"  No,  I  did  not  suspect  them,  but  they,  being  on  the 
grounds,  can  no  doubt  enlighten  us  and  bring  to  view 
more  evidence.        The   most   learned   and  keen-sighted 


4  ANDE    TREMBATH 

judge,  at  times,  profits  by  the  evidence  of  common 
labourers  and  country  parsons,  who  are  far  beneath  him 
in  the  knowledge  of  law  and  criminal  investigation." 

"  To  be  sure,  to  be  sure,"  said  the  squire,  somewhat 
mollified,  "  but  here  comes  Sloan." 

An  old  man,  whose  erect  form  and  sturdy  step  belied 
his  grey  hair  and  wrinkled  brows,  was  seen  approax;hing 
from  the  direction  of  the  stables. 

**  Canst  tell  us  anything  more  about  this  outrage, 
Sloan?" 

The  hostler  was  now  close  at  hand  and  had  removed 
his  cap  in  deference  to  the  gentlemen  near  him. 

"  A  bad  job,  beant  it,  squire,  as  I  was  a- telling  nephe 
Bob  this  marning.  No,  sir,  I  can't  say  as  Hi  knaws 
much.  I  'eard  Borlase  barking  savage-like  last  night, 
and  I  ups  and  slips  quiet-like  down  from  my  room  o*er 
the  stables,  and  run  through  the  paddock  just  in  time 
to  see  the  rogue  on  the  other  side  of  the  *edge.  It  was 
dark,  squire,  and  I  'aven't  the  heye-sight  I  used  to  'ave, 
and  so  I  couldn't  make  un  out  who  'e  was.  This  marn- 
ing I  looked  around  and  found  poor  Borlase  a-lying 
there  and  brought  you  word.  That's  all  I  knaws,  only  I 
'opes  the  villain  will  be  caught  and  'anged." 

"  And  did  you  see  no  person  around  the  grounds  late 
in  the  afternoon,  George  ?  "  asked  the  parson. 

"  None,  sir,  except  my  nephe  Bob,  who  comes  hover 
to  the  stables  to  'elp  me  in  ray  work,  now  and  then,  but 
'e  always  leaves  afore  evening.  Now — as  I  think  of  it, 
Bob  was  a-telling  me  'e  'ad  seen  Ande  Trembath  nigh 
the  Prospidnic  road  gate,  as  'e  was  going  'ome  last 


CALAMITY    AT     THE    MANOR       5 

night ;  'e  may  'ave  seen  the  rogue  and  could  tell  you 
summat." 

Blackness  as  of  a  thunder-cloud  rolled  across  the  old 
squire's  features,  and  a  purple  stream  of  blood  mounted 
and  flushed  his  temples. 

"  Spawn  of  the  traitor !    He  shall  smart  for  it !  " 

*'  What  a  horrible  oath !  Squire,  you  are  beside  your- 
self," said  the  parson,  with  gentle,  chiding  reproof. 

"  Well,  damme,  parson,  what's  a  man  to  do  ?  Here's 
all  these  outrages,  and  it's  perfectly  clear  to  my  mind, 
now,  that  that  traitorous  son  of " 

"  Tut,  tut,  fie,  squire !  " 

"  That  that  traitorous  son  of  a  traitor,  knowing  that 
I  have  the  possession  of  the  manor  of  his  ancestors,  which 
the  King — God  bless  him — took  from  their  family  on 
account  of  their  treason,  that  boy — don't  interrupt  me. 
Parson  Trant — that  boy  is  the  culprit,  and  damme — 
I'll  have  him  arrested  for  malicious  mischief  and  tres- 
pass." 

"  Not  so  fast,  squire.  What  evidence  do  you  have 
except  your  own  suspicions  and  the  fact  that  the  lad  was 
seen  nigh  the  Prospidnic  road  gate  ?  If  I  know  aught 
of  law  there's  not  sufficient  evidence." 

"  There,  there,  you  talk  of  law — as  if  a  magistrate 
didn't  know  the  law." 

"  Well,  the  evidence  is  lacking,"  said  the  parson, 
gently,  though  firmly,  for  he  would  not  allow  the  squire 
to  shake  his  confidence  in  his  best  pupil.  "  The  lad  has 
a  good  reputation,  is  a  bright  scholar  in  my  parish 
school,  and " 


6  ANDE     TREMBATH 

"  Well,  well,  we'll  get  more  evidence,"  interrupted  the 
squire,  a  little  testily.  "  George,  see  that  the  dog  is 
buried,  and — ^here,  hitch  up  the  black  mare  for  Mistress 
Alice;  she's  going  out  this  morning." 

The  hostler  paused,  fingering  his  cap. 

"  I'm  feared,  squire,  Queeny  is  a  little  huntrusty ; 
she's  been  standing  in  the  stall  some  time." 

"  What ! " 

The  presence  of  the  parson  restrained  the  squire  from 
saying  more,  but  his  flushed  countenance  spoke  volumes. 
George  saw  it  and,  touching  his  cap,  hastened  off  to 
obey. 

"  Here's  a  pretty  pass  things  are  coming  to !  Out- 
rages committed  daily,  and  my  own  servants  in  open 
rebellion,  disputing  my  word." 

"  Come  now,"  said  the  parson,  gently,  "  he  meant  no 
harm  and  no  disrespect,  I'm  sure.  Suppose  we  go  down 
to  the  lodge  and  see  Pengilly." 

Squire  and  parson  wended  their  way  across  the  gar- 
dens to  the  broad  carriage-way  and  thence  down  to  the 
main  entrance  of  the  manor  estate,  the  latter  talking 
and  the  former  keeping  down  his  temper  as  best  he  could 
in  silence,  until  he  became  of  a  more  quiescent  frame  of 
mind.  In  truth,  the  squire  was  inwardly  regretting  his 
outburst  of  temper,  and  the  violent  language  he  had 
used  in  the  presence  of  his  friend,  the  parson. 

"  Such  a  thing  is  possible  but  not  probable.  Ande 
has  been  the  best  scholar  in  the  parish  school  and  a 
model  boy,  so  the  master  assures  me.  We  must  not  con- 
demn him  too  hastily  and  without  being  heard.     His 


CALAMITY     AT     THE     MANOR       7 

mother  is  a  noble  woman  and  has  inculcated  high  prin- 
ciples in  her  training  of  the  lad." 

There  was  silence  for  a  moment  unbroken  save  by  the 
crunch,  crunch  of  the  gravel  underfoot  and  the  twitter 
of  bird  overhead.  Then  the  squire,  sufficiently  calmed, 
spoke. 

"  All  very  true,  but  envy  and  malice  crop  out  even  in 
the  very  best  of  characters ;  especially  is  it  true  in  those 
who,  having  been  deprived  of  high  position,  see  others 
occupying  that  which  was  formerly  theirs.  They  are 
apt  to  allow  their  feelings  to  bias  their  judgment." 

"  And  are  you  sure  that  you,  my  old  friend,  are  not 
doing  the  same  thing?  "  said  the  parson,  with  a  winning 
smile,  referring  to  the  last  remark  of  the  squire. 

Squire  Vivian  flushed  at  this  rejoinder. 

"  Well,  we'll  give  the  lad  a  fair  chance ;  perhaps  I 
was  a  trifle  too  hasty,  but  you  well  know,  parson,  that 
next  to  my  Alice  and  you,  I  was  extremely  fond  of  Bor- 
lase,  and  naturally  feel  angry  at  his  loss.  I  secured  him 
when  a  puppy  from  an  old  friend,  one  of  the  Borlases 
of  Borlase  at  St.  Just.  You  know,  to  be  sure,  Dr.  Will- 
iam Borlase,  the  scholar  and  antiquarian  ?  " 

"  Aye,  I  have  studied  his  works  with  interest." 

**  Well,  I  named  the  mastiff'  after  him ;  the  intelli- 
gence of  that  dog,  parson,  was  phenomenal.  Ah,  here 
we  are  at  the  lodge." 

The  drive-way  terminated  at  the  entrance  gate,  a  large 
aff'air  of  massive  iron  bars,  fancifully  and  artistically 
wrought  at  the  top  into  intricate  curves  and  flourishes. 
Huge  square  pillars  of  Cornish  moor-stone  surmounted 


8  ANDE    TREMBATH 

at  the  top  with  the  Trembath  arms — a  Lyonnesse  war- 
rior galloping  amidst  ocean  waves — flanked  the  gate  on 
either  side  and  gave  it  desired  support.  Why  the  squire, 
or  his  father,  had  not  removed  the  arms  of  his  predeces- 
sor, replacing  them  with  his  own,  is  hard  to  tell.  The 
whole  gateway  stood  out  like  fret-work  upon  the  back- 
ground of  the  squire's  woods  beyond  the  highway,  woods 
and  trees  of  ancient  standing,  as  scrupulously  cared  for 
as  the  members  of  the  squire's  own  household. 

Within  the  gate  and  close  on  one  side,  lovingly  envi- 
roned by  beds  of  blooming  gilli-flowers  and  marigolds, 
and  almost  concealed  by  enveloping  masses  of  English 
ivy  that  affectionately  embraced  its  walls,  was  a  small, 
neat,  stone  cottage  that  bore  the  dignified  name  of  "  the 
Lodge."  A  man,  still  in  the  prime  of  life,  was  labour- 
ing assiduously  over  some  strawberry  beds  in  the  rear. 

"  Ned,  this  way,  please,"  shouted  the  squire,  and  Ned 
Pengilly,  who  acted  in  the  double  capacity  of  gardener 
and  porter,  dropping  his  hoe,  hastened  to  comply.  There 
was  independence  and  respect  for  his  master  admirably 
blended  in  the  demeanour  of  the  gardener,  as  he  stood 
before  parson  and  squire. 

"  Ned,  did  you  see  Ande  Trembath  nigh  the  place  of 
late?  We  want  you  to  freshen  up  your  memory  and  tell 
us  when  and  how  often  you  have  seen  him  about  the  place 
of  late." 

"  WeU,  I  seed  him  going  through  the  Manor  woods — 
yesterday;  'e  was  whistling  a  tune,  bright  and  cheery- 
like,  and  bid  me  the  time  of  day  as  'e  passed  the  gate. 
We  all  likes  young  Squire  Ande,  as  we  calls  'im — no 


CALAMITY     AT     THE     MANOR       9 

offence,  squire,  I  'opes ; — we  all  calls  'im  '  young  squire  ' 
'cause  'is  grandfather  was  squire  'ere  years  ago,  afore 
'e  turned  for  the  French — which  the  lad  can't  'elp." 

"  Which  the  lad  can't  help ! "  fairly  thundered  the 
squire,  his  wrath  getting  the  better  of  him  once  more, 
no  doubt  fired  at  the  term  of  young  squire.  "  I  suppose 
he  couldn't  help  draining  the  fish  pond?  I  suppose  he 
couldn't  help  trampling  the  shrubbery?  I  suppose  he 
couldn't  help  killing  Borlase  last  night?  Couldn't 
help " 

The  latter  part  of  this  ebullition  of  passion  died  away 
in  a  hoarse  growl  of  something  like  "  blood  will  tell." 

The  effect  upon  the  porter  of  this  news  of  the  killing 
of  Borlase  was  most  striking. 

"  Bless  m'  well,  squire !  What !  Borlase  dead — ^killed ! 
Good  hold  Borlase !  'ow  fond  we  were  of  'im !    Dead !  " 

There  was  a  curious  working  of  the  gardener's 
features  and  he  hastily  rubbed  the  sleeve  of  his  rough 
shirt  across  his  eyes. 

"  You  must  excuse  me,  squire — to  blubber  'ere  like  a 
babby — but  then  you  knaw  'ow  I  brought  un,  nigh  ten 
year  ago,  from  St.  Just — a  puppy  'e  was  then,  and  I 
loved  un — ay — like — ^like — like  a  father.  'Ow  'e  used 
to  bark — ^just  like  the  roar  of  a  lion — ah  was — and  'ow 
sensible  'e  was  too  when  'e  would  come  nigh  me  at  work 
on  the  flower  beds ;  'e'd  wag  'is  tail  and  look  on  like  a 
gentleman,  as  if  saying,  '  thas  all  right,  my  man,'  and 
yet  'e'd  ne'er  put  foot  on  a  posy  or  stamp  on  my  work. 
Dead!  But  bless'ee,  squire,  you  can't  suspect  Ande. 
Why,  I  knawed  Ande  when  'e  was  only  a  hinfant,  and  I 


10  ANDE     TREMBATH 

knawed  him  from  then  up,  and  a  brighter,  better,  hon- 
ester  lad  ne'er  breathed.  Soul  of  'onour,  'e  ez,  sir! 
Ande !     Why  'e  wouldn't  'urt  nothing,  sir." 

"  I  agree  with  you,  Ned,"  said  the  parson.  "  Ande 
has  too  kind  a  heart  to  hurt  any  of  God's  creatures. 
His  character  is  above  suspicion  in  the  matter." 

"  'Zactly  so,  so  'e  ez,"  affirmed  Ned. 

"  The  principles  and  character  of  his  father  and 
grandfather  were  not  above  reproach.  He's  a  chip  of 
the  old  block,"  growled  the  squire. 

"  But,  I  am  afraid  the  commonwealth  is  against  you 
in  your  judgment* of  the  lad.  You  know  the  old  adage, 
'  a  man's  innocent  until  proved  guilty,'  squire," 
rejoined  the  parson. 

"  Aye,  but  in  this  case  it's  the  Irish  verdict,  *  guilty, 
but  not  proven.'  Ned,  fix  up  the  berry  bushes  and 
trim  the  shrubbery  to-day.  In  the  meantime  keep  an  ear 
open,  and  report  to  me  any  news  you  may  hear  of  last 
night's  outrage." 

The  gardener  touched  his  cap  and  returned  to  his 
labour,  and  squire  and  parson,  still  conversing,  saun* 
tered  away  through  the  grounds. 

"  A  man  shouldn't  allow  his  feelings  to  run  away  with 
his  judgment,"  said  the  latter,  warmly  championing  the 
cause  of  his  favourite. 

"  The  days  of  the  Stoics  are  past.  You  have  a  mar- 
vellous predilection  for  that  lad.  Parson  Trant.  Now,  I 
shall  just  send  the  steward  down  to  the  village,  this  even- 
ing, and  have  him  up  here,  not  for  a  trial,  but  just  for  a 
private  examination,  and  he  shall  have  fair  play.     But 


CALAMITY    AT     THE     MANOR     11 

going  to  other  subjects,  old  friend, — what  think  you  of 
young  Master  Lanyan  ?  " 

"  Master  Lanyan — um — a  bright  young  man — bright 
beyond  his  years,  I  think.  He  will  certainly  make  his 
mark  in  life  if  he  keeps  to  right  principles." 

"  Ah,  exactly  so,"  said  the  squire,  rubbing  his  hands 
in  the  first  satisfaction  he  had  had  for  the  whole  morn- 
ing. "  I  wanted  to  get  your  opinion  and  am  glad  you 
think  so  highly  of  him." 

His  companion  shook  his  head. 

"  As  to  thinking  highly  of  him — I  don't  know.  He 
has  a  strong,  subtile  mind, — culture, — and  a  determined 
will,  but  he  plays  cards  and " 

"  Pooh !  Pooh !  Pish !  Physician,  heal  thyself ;  you 
know  that  you  and  I  engage  in  a  social  game  at  times." 

"  But  we  don't  gamble." 

*'  Only  a  few  wild  oats.  That  is  natural  to  a  high- 
spirited  lad.  He  has  culture,  a  strong  head — a  genuine 
gentleman,"  stoutly  maintained  the  squire. 

"  Ah,  but  those  things  in  my  estimation  are  not  the 
true  requisites  of  a  gentleman.  I  consider  the  founda- 
tion principles  of  a  man's  life." 

"  Yes,  but  the  English  gentry  are  supposed  to  be 
dominated  by  the  highest  principles,"  said  the  squire, 
earnestly. 

"  As  a  class,  yes,  but  in  reference  to  the  individual,  it 
is  a  supposition  without  the  fact,  frequently;  and,  if 
your  statement  holds  good,  how  about  my  young  friend, 
Ande  Trembath.?  " 

The  squire  flushed  with  angry  impatience. 


12  ANDE     TREMBATH 

"  Back  again  to  that  young  villain !  Well,  parson, 
that  family  no  longer  belongs  to  the  English  gentry 
class,  as  you  can  readily  see.  Attainder  of  property 
and  corruption  of  blood !  " 

It  was  the  parson's  time  to  "  Pish !  Pish !  Pooh !  Pooh !  " 

**  Pshaw !  Nothing  of  the  kind.  Does  a  plant  cease 
to  be  the  same  when  it  is  transplanted  to  another  soil, 
or  the  king  of  the  jungle  cease  to  be  a  lion  when  sur- 
rounded by  the  bars  of  a  cage?  " . 

*'  Yes,  to  an  extent.  Environment  has  a  large  influence 
on  life ;  at  least  so  our  parson  said  in  last  Sabbath's  dis- 
course." The  squire  laughed  heartily,  and  thwacked 
the  discomfited  parson  on  the  back  with  his  large,  broad 
hand. 

The  parson  smiled  and  resumed. 

*'  I  am  beaten  with  my  own  stick,  yet,  notwithstand- 
ing that  you  quoted  me  correctly,  you  are  wrong. 
Environment  is  not  a  paramount  influence.  Man  can 
conquer.     Tertullian  and  Origen " 

Afraid  of  starting  his  friend  on  some  long-winded 
discourse  on  ancient  church  worthies,  the  squire  inter- 
rupted him. 

*'  Your  idea  of  a  gentleman  is- " 

"  My  idea  is  that  wealth,  culture,  position,  etc.,  are 
the  emoluments  or  adjuncts,  and  that  high,  sound,  moral 
principles,  a  righteous  heart  and  a  noble  soul,  whether 
under  the  blouse  of  the  peasant  or  under  the  silk  vest  of 
the  prince,  are  the  only  badges  of  gentility." 

"  Well,  well, — little  did  I  think  that  my  old,  conserva- 
tive friend  would  turn  out  such  a  radical." 


CALAMITY     AT     THE     MANOR     13 

"  Not  at  all.  My  firm  belief,  that  these,  by  training, 
education,  blood,  descent,  are  embodied  more  fully  in 
the  gentry  class  of  England  than  in  any  other,  has  made 
me  an  extreme  conservative.  But,  about  young  Master 
Lanyan?  " 

"  Young  Richard?  Young  Richard  in  a  year  or  so 
will  attain  his  majority.  What  think  you  of  a  match 
between  the  young  Richard  and  my  Alice?  You  see," 
added  the  squire,  as  he  linked  his  arm  in  that  of  the 
parson,  "  I  am  getting  old  and  I  would  like  to  see  my 
only  child  well  settled  in  life  before  I  leave  the  earth. 
The  Lanyan  estates  are  nigh  to  ours  and  they  will  fall 
to  Richard  after  his  father's  death.  What  better  match 
than  Richard?  My  Alice  is  worthy  of  being  called  '  My 
Lady  *  and  Richard  will  be  Baronet  in  time.  Now,  what 
think  you,  old  friend?  " 

"  You  asked  me  two  questions ;  let  us  consider  one  at 
a  time.  In  reference  to  young  Richard.  It  is  not  the 
playing  of  cards  that  I  object  to ;  it  is  the  trait  that  his 
gambling  reveals.  You  know  of  the  schemes  of  his 
grandfather,  and  of  his  great-grandfather ;  the  rage  for 
speculation,  the  South  Sea  Bubble,  and  the  hundred  and 
one  schemes  that  that  family  has  engaged  in.  Blood 
will  tell.  Richard's  gambling  reveals  that.  He  will 
either  make  or  break  his  family.  This  mad  rage  for 
speculation  is  an  evil  thing.  Some  day  either  Sir  James 
or  Richard  will  overreach  himself  and  should — ^but  of 
that  anon.  He  is  determined  and  has  a  strong  will,  but 
should  his  will  be  thwarted  might  not  the  young  Richard 
be  like  his  grandfather,  a  man  of  no  principle.     I  do 


14  ANDE     TREMBATH 

not  wish  to  misjudge  the  young  man,  but  I  fear  me 
that  he  is  one  who  will  allow  nothing  to  come  between 
himself  and  his  ends,  and  even  to  stoop  to  questionable 
and  evil  things  to  accomplish  those  ends.  God  forgive 
me  if  I  have  judged  wrongly.  Then  he  is  proud  and 
even  supercilious  at  times,  a  disdainer  of  the  commons. 
Should  he  be  brought  to  poverty,  the  lack  of  principle 
which  I  fear  is  in  him  would  hasten  the  degradation  of 
his  character.  He  may  be  different  than  I  have  said,  but 
whenever  I  see  him  I  have  an  undefinable  suspicion  of 
incipient  evil  within.  Now  in  reference  to  Alice  and  this 
projected  alliance.  Alice  is  a  good  child  and  has  com- 
mendable traits.  No  '  My  Lady  '  will  enhance  her  worth 
any  more  than  it  is  now.  Her  happiness  is  no  light  con- 
sideration. I  believe  she  can  be  happy  with  no  man 
except  one  of  high  and  noble  principles.  Then,  in  event 
of  this  alliance  being  consummated,  there  may  be  danger 
of  Trembath  Manor  being  involved  in  the  ruin  that  may 
come  upon  Lanyan  Hall.  Has  she  been  consulted? 
Would  she  offer  no  objection  to  this  plan  of  yours?  " 

"  Objection!  No,"  said  the  squire,  a  little  testily,  for 
he  had  been  listening  impatiently  to  this  advice  of  his 
friend.    "  Alice  is  a  good  child  and  will  do  as  I  say." 

The  parson  had  his  own  opinion,  but  said  nothing. 

The  great  gables  and  chimney-pots  of  the  "  great 
house,"  as  it  was  generally  called  by  the  peasantry 
around  about,  loomed  up  in  the  distance  and  suggested 
to  the  parson  that  the  hour  was  getting  late.  Taking 
out  his  watch 

"  I  declare !    I  had  no  thought  that  the  hour  was  so 


CALAMITY     AT     THE     MANOR      15 

late,  and  Harriet  will  be  waiting  for  me,  too.     I  must  go 
and  we'll  talk  about  the  matter  later  on." 

The  squire  tried  to  prevail  upon  his  friend  to  stay  for 
lunch,  but,  finding  that  it  was  unavailing,  cordially 
shook  hands  and  they  separated,  the  former  going  on 
toward  the  Manor  house,  the  latter  hastening  down  to 
the  entrance  gates.. 


CHAPTER  II 

THE  SON  OF  A  TRAITOR 

"  Blithe  bird  of  the  wilderness,  sweet  is  thy  song. 
Blithe  lark  of  the  wildwood,  O,  all  the  day  long, 
A-singing  so  cheerily  in  the  green  tree, 
Thy  anthem  dispels  gloom  and  sorrow  from  me; 
Thou  say  est  in  thy  song,  'What  can  sadness  avail? 
Injustice  shall  fall  and  the  good  shall  prevail.' 

"Yet  bird  of  the  wilderness,  sad  is  our  lot. 
Our  home,  confiscated,  our  name,  a  dark  blot; 
The  Cornish   chief,   stricken   at   Prestonpan's   fight. 
Wounded  at  Culloden  for  King  and  the  right. 
And  captured  at  Braddock's  defeat  in  the  glen. 
Was  branded  at  home  by  a  sycophant's  pen. 

"Oh,  bird  of  the  wildwood,  upon  the  green  bough 
Thy  ancestor  sang  just  as  sweetly  as  thou, 
He  sang,  as  thou  singest,  that  evil  should  fail. 
Injustice  should  fall,  and  that  good  should  prevail; 
But  surely  the  goddess  of  justice  is  blind, 
When  traitor  is  honoured  and  patriot    maligned. 

"Sing  sweetly,  O  wild  bird,  upon  the  green  tree, 
And  let  me  draw  comfort  and  solace  from  thee. 
Though  home's  confiscated,  dishonoured  our  name. 
And  poverty  adds  a  deep  sting  to  our  shame. 
And  father's  departed, — ^yet,  evil  shall  fail, — 
Some  day, — right  shall  triumph  and  good  shall  prevail." 

Clear  and  sweet  arose  the  melody,  and  yet  with  a 
plaintive  element  of  sadness  in  it.     The  parson  paused 

16 


THE     SON     OF     A     TRAITOR        17 

in  his  steps  to  listen.  On  one  side  of  the  highway 
stretched  the  woods  of  the  Manor,  their  shadow  etched 
darkly  by  the  slightly  slanting  sun-rays ;  on  the  other 
side  were  the  fields,  yellow,  ripe,  all  ready  for  the  sickle  of 
the  reaper.  A  wood-lark,  the  sweetest  of  all  English 
birds,  arose  in  the  air  from  the  Manor  woods  and,  still 
twittering,  flew  over  hedge  and  field,  no  doubt  seeking 
its  home  and  mate. 

A  smile  of  pleasure  lit  up  the  saintly  old  rector's  face 
and  then  merged  into  the  thoughtful.  He  made  a  pleas- 
ing picture  leaning  on  his  silver-headed  cane,  his  long 
skirted  coat  slightly  open  at  the  neck,  revealing  the 
white  stock-cravat  in  its  fluffy  folds,  his  head  slightly 
inclined  as  if  not  willing  to  lose  a  single  bar  of  the  song. 
Not  until  the  song  was  ended  did  he  venture  forward. 

"  Most  remarkable  song  and  most  remarkable  sweet 
tenor  voice — yes — a  great  deal  sweeter  than  Penjer- 
rick's.     I  must  have  that  voice  for  our  parish  choir." 

Arriving  at  the  corner  of  the  woods,  the  silence  of  the 
singer  was  explained  in  a  single,  brief,  cursory  glance. 
There,  seated  on  the  hedge  that  separated  the  woods 
from  the  road,  sat  the  figure  of  a  boy,  tall,  sinewy  and 
strong,  yet  still  a  boy.  His  cap  had  fallen  to  the  ground 
and  the  tangled  masses  of  dark  red  hair  lay  deep  on  his 
brow.  With  melancholy,  abstracted  air,  he  was  gazing 
across  the  fields  as  if  in  meditation. 

"  Why,  Ande,  you  are  quite  a  singer,"  said  the  parson, 
in  a  pleasant  voice. 

The  lad,  startled  from  his  reverie,  leaped  down  from 
the  hedge,  picked  up  his  cap  and  coming  forward  gave 


18  ANDE     TREMBATH 

his  customary  salutation,  "  Good-morning,  Parson 
Trant." 

The  parson  returned  the  salutation  and  then  there 
was  silence  for  a  moment,  during  which  the  rector 
scrutinised  him  with  his  kindly,  yet  keen    grey  eyes. 

The  lad's  face  was  both  attractive  and  strong.  His 
slightly  aquiline  nose  revealed  a  sensitive  nature;  his 
prominent  chin  and  firm  lips,  a  resolute  will ;  his  high, 
rolling  forehead — swept  by  the  tangled  waves  of  rol- 
licking hair — intellectuality ;  the  hue  of  his  locks  and 
the  deep  blue  eye,  a  soul  that,  though  kind  and  affec- 
tionate, could  be  fired  by  strong  passions.  At  least  so 
conjectured  the  parson,  who  thought  he  could  read 
character  in  human  lineaments. 

But  these  thoughts  did  not  occupy  the  latter  long.  It 
was  the  manner  of  the  lad  that  disturbed  him.  With 
bright,  cheery  smile  he  had  been  accustomed  to  greet  him 
heretofore.  Now  the  youth  stood  before  him  almost 
with  the  air  of  a  culprit.  He  shunned  the  rector's  eyes, 
and  seemed  as  if  wishing  to  avoid  that  calm  scrutiny.  A 
fleeting  thought  possessed  the  mind  of  the  pastor.  Could 
the  youth  possibly  be  guilty  of  the  misdemeanours  com- 
mitted at  the  Manor.'*  Was  he  wrong  in  his  judgment 
of  his  favourite  pupil  ?  The  truth  of  the  matter  was  that 
the  youth  had  been  crying  over  petty  vexations.  At 
least  there  were  tears  in  his  eyes  and,  like  many  of  his 
age,  he  disliked  to  be  seen  thus. 

"  Well,  Ande,"  said  Parson  Trant,  breaking  the 
silence,  "  you  have  a  voice  that  ought  to  be  in  our  parish 
choir.    Now  what  do  you  say  about  coming  in  next  Sab- 


THE     SON     OF     A     TRAITOR        19 

bath  morning?  Mr.  Penjerrick  will  give  you  a  little 
preliminary  training  Saturday  afternoon." 

"  I — I  would  rather  not  come,  sir,  if  you  could  excuse 
me.     I — I  don't  sing  in  church." 

"  And  why  not  ?  "  asked  the  parson,  kindly. 

**  Because  I  would  be  singing  the  praises  of  Grod  when 
— when — I  don't  feel  like  it,"  responded  the  lad  a  little 
slowly,  and  with  some  effort. 

"  Why,  Ande,  you  are  a  Christian  lad — true,  you  have 
not  yet  been  confirmed  and  united  to  the  church — ^but 
still,  you  are  a  Christian  lad.     Are  you  not.?  " 

"  I  don't  know,  sir,"  said  the  lad,  and  again  relapsed 
into  silence. 

*'  My  poor  lad,"  said  the  good  old  man,  as  he  put  one 
arm  over  the  boy's  shoulder,  affectionately,  "  there's 
something  wrong  with  you  to-day ;  you  are  not  yourself. 
Come  now,  confide  in  me.  Tell  me  about  it  and  let  me 
give  you  my  advice  in  the  matter.  You  have  not  done 
anything  wrong,  have  you.''  " 

Thus  questioned  by  the  good  old  rector,  Ande,  who 
loved  him  for  his  worth  as  a  true  man  and  a  noble 
exponent  of  Christianity,  could  not  help  but  respond. 
Flinging  up  his  head  and  pushing  back  the  masses  of 
hair  that  would  persist  in  falling  over  his  eyes,  he 
said: 

"  It  is  this  way,  Mr.  Trant,  I  have  made  up  my  mind 
to  leave  the  country.  There  is  room  for  me  on  the  sea 
or  in  foreign  parts.  I  can't  bear  the  taunts  of  some  of 
the  lads  at  the  parish  school.  The  master  doesn't  know 
and  you  don't  know  how  mean  some  of  the  boys  act. 


so  ANDE     TREMBATH 

There's  Bob  Sloan,  Dick  Denny  and  some  more  of  that 
stripe  that  are  becoming  unbearable." 

"  Why,  what  do  they  say?  "  asked  the  parson,  kindly. 

"  They  call  me  the  ugly  Dane  or  Deane  and  cast  slurs 
upon  my  father  and  grandfather,  saying  they  were 
traitors  to  the  government." 

"  Ah,  in  reference  to  the  first  name,  methinks,  my 
lad,  you  are  old  enough  to  know  that  that  old  story  of 
the  Danes  seizing  the  wives  of  Englishmen  has  no  his- 
torical foundation;  in  reference  to  the  second  matter, 
time  itself  must  clear  up  the  truth  or  falsity  of  the 
accusation.  It  certainly  shows  a  mean,  petty  spirit  to 
vilify  a  son  for  the  reputed  deeds  of  a  father." 

"  Aye,  there's  just  the  point  about  my  not  singing  In 
church.  The  Bible  says  '  the  sins  of  the  fathers  shall  be 
visited  upon  the  children,'  and  I  think  that's  unjust. 
Here,"  said  the  boy  with  a  trace  of  angry  passion  in  his 
tones,  "  I  am  taunted,  despised,  looked  down  on,  not  only 
by  the  lads,  but  by  some  of  the  grown  people  as  well.  I 
believe,  just  as  you  say,  that  it  shows  a  small  spirit  in 
lads,  men  and  the  Bible,  to  condemn  a  lad  for  the  faults 
of  his  father.    How  can  I  sing  then?  " 

The  parson  was  dumfounded  and  completely  silenced 
for  a  moment.  He  was  grieved  and  dismayed  to  hear 
how  his  last  remark  was  misapplied. 

"  And,"  continued  the  youth,  rather  bitterly,  "  I 
believe,  and  know  you  believe,  that  neither  father  nor 
grandfather  were  guilty  of  any  treason,  that  there's  a 
mistake  somewhere.  Yet — yet  I  have  to  stand  all  this. 
Squire  Vivian  looks  upon  me  with  an  angry  look.     Sir 


THE     SON     OF     A     TRAITOR        21 

James  Lanyan  looks  upon  me  as  if  I  was  a  dog.  Master 
Richard  called  me  a  traitor's  cub,  because  I  happened 
to  be  in  his  way  this  morning,  and  if  he  hadn't  been  on 
horseback  I  would  have  made  him  take  it  back — and — 
and — I  hate  them.  I  hate  them  all!"  The  lad's  face 
was  marked  with  passion,  his  fists  clenched,  and  there  was 
an  angry  tear  in  his  eye  that  he  could  not  conceal. 
"  Why  does  God  allow  all  this  ?  Why — and — and — but 
I'm  not  going  to  stay  here  and  bear  it." 

The  parson  looked  grave  and  turned  the  conversation 
for  a  moment  by  asking  the  name  of  the  author  of  the 
song  he  had  heard. 

"  The  Song  of  the  Lark,  you  mean  ?  That  was  made 
by  my  father,  and  my  mother  taught  me  to  sing  it  when 
I  could  first  finger  the  harp.  The  harp  is  the  only  thing 
we  have  now  that  used  to  belong  to  the  Manor."  There 
was  a  sad  ring  in  the  boy's  voice  that  but  indicated  the 
feelings  within. 

*'  Do  you  believe  in  the  truth  of  that  song.?  " 

"  Yes,"  responded  the  lad. 

"  Well,  why  don't  you  put  in  application  the  thought .?" 
and  Parson  Trant  quoted  the  words: 

"  'What  can  sadness  avail, 
Injustice  shall  fall,  and  good  shall  prevail.' 

Now,  Ande,"  continued  the  parson,  "  I  know  the 
history  of  your  family  almost  as  well  as  you.  Your 
grandfather  was  a  faithful  subject  of  the  king.  He 
fought  with  Gardner  at  Prestonpans,  at  Culloden,  and 
also  against  the  French  in  the  American  colonies.     He 


22  ANDE     TREMBATH 

disappeared  after  Braddock's  defeat  and  was  shot  a 
year  afterward  by  General  Arinstrong's  troops,  by  mis- 
take, no  doubt.  Now  consider, — ^at  the  time  he  had  on 
a  tattered  French  uniform,  with  a  commission  as  captain 
in  the  French  army  in  his  pocket.  These  things  were 
brought  to  England  and,  through  the  instrumentality 
of  Sir  Richard  Lanyan,  father  of  Sir  James,  the  atten- 
tion of  the  authorities  was  directed  toward  them  and  the 
Manor  confiscated.  Under  the  circumstances  was  not 
the  king  justified  in  suspicioning  his  loyalty .f*  Con- 
sider, too,  that  England  and  the  Hanover  dynasty  had 
been  threatened  seriously,  by  the  Pretender,  with  another 
invasion  of  French  troops.  Culloden  was  still  fresh  in 
men's  minds.  Cornwall  was  noted  for  her  adherence  to 
the  Stuarts  in  the  Cromwellian  wars,  and  even  at  the 
time  of  the  young  Pretender  many  noted  Cornish  families 
sympathised  with  him  and  the  Stuart  claims.  You  know 
the  story  of  Bumuhall,^  and  how  young  Prince  Charles, 
the  Pretender,  spent  several  nights  there  in  concealment. 
Do  you  wonder  at  a  ready  ear  being  given  to  suspicion 
coming  from  this  quarter.''  Blame  not  the  king  or  your 
fellows,  my  lad.  The  suspicion  was  natural,  although 
the  friends  of  your  family  believe  that  there  was  a  mis- 
take somewhere.  Hope  for  the  best  and  bear  up  cheer- 
fully, my  lad.  You  misapplied  my  remark  some  moments 
ago  about  God  being  unjust  and  that  therefore  you  could 
not  sing  His  praise.     My  remark  applied  only  to  men 

^  Burnuhall — A  fine  old  mansion  near  the  English  Channel  in 
the  parish  of  Buryan,  Cornwall,  England.  Sheltered  the  young 
Pretender  in  1746. 


THE     SON     OF    A    TRAITOR        23 

and  not  to  God.  God  is  above  our  judgment.  He  can- 
not be  measured  by  our  standards.  You  spoke  about 
playing  the  harp.  It  was  hard  work  to  learn,  was  it 
not.?  " 

"  Yes,  sir,  but  mother  kept  me  at  it." 

*'  Well,  so  God  is  trying  to  teach  you  some  things. 
You  heard  my  sermon  last  Sabbath.  Can  you  tell  me 
the  text.?  " 

"  Part  of  the  eighteenth  verse  of  the  Hundred  and 
Fifth  Psalm, '  He  was  laid  in  iron,'  "  responded  the  boy. 

"  I  am  glad  you  remember  it.  You  remember  how 
Joseph  was  treated,  sold  into  slavery,  maligned, 
slandered,  imprisoned.  Yet  he  had  done  no  wrong.  Now 
is  your  case  any  worse  than  his?  No,  not  nearly  so  bad, 
yet  he  didn't  refuse  to  sing  God's  praise,  although  he 
knew  God  permitted  him  to  be  slandered  and  to  be 
unjustly  imprisoned.  Now,  what  was  it  for.?  You 
remember  the  old  Hebrew  rendering  that  I  quoted  as  the 
last  thought,  *  Barzel  baah  naphsho,'  and  its  meaning 
iron  entered  his  soul.  You  remember  I  said  his  soul  was 
strengthened  as  with  iron,  on  account  of  his  suffering 
and  dishonour,  and  that  through  that  same  discipline  he 
gained  the  courage,  wisdom,  resolution  and  position  of 
a  prince,  and  became  ruler  o'er  all  Egypt.  Now,  Ande, 
God  may  be  training  you  in  the  same  way.  You  know 
Cowper's  hymn,  no  doubt,  by  heart. 

"  God  moves  in  a  mysterious  way 
His  wonders  to  perform; 
He  plants  His  footsteps  in  the  sea 
And  rides  upon  the  storm. 


S4  ANDE     TREMBATH 

Ye  fearful  saints,  fresh  courage  take. 
The  clouds  ye  so  much  dread 
Are  full  of  mercy  and  will  break 
In  blessings  on  your  head. 
Judge  not  the  Lord  by  feeble  sense 
But  trust  Him  for  His  grace. 
Behind    a    frowning   Providence 
He  hides  a  smiling  face ! " 

The  beautiful  hjmn  was  quoted  to  the  very  end,  and 
the  good  old  parson,  apparently  filled  with  the  glad, 
stirring  thought,  had  a  smile  of  exalted  hopefulness  on 
his  countenance.  Ande  gazed  at  him  and  it  seemed  in 
that  smile  he  read  a  happy  augury  of  his  own  future. 
The  parson  had  preached  a  sermon  without  realising  it, 
but  yet  he  could  not  fail  to  see  the  effects  of  his  words  on 
the  youth  at  his  side.  There  was  a  serenity  on  the  boy's 
features  and  a  new,  hopeful  light  in  the  eye  as  he  grasped 
the  parson's  hand  with  fervour,  and  said,  "  I'll  not  doubt 
God  again.  Parson  Trant,  and  I'll  not  refuse  to  sing." 

*'  And  not  hate  Squire  Vivian,  Sir  James  Lanjan,  or 
the  young  Master  Richard.?"  asked  the  parson. 

The  parson  had  overreached  himself.  The  youth's 
countenance  flushed  with  anger  and  the  hands  were 
slightly  clenched.     There  was  silence. 

"  Perhaps  it  is  a  little  too  much  to  ask  that  now. 
That  will  come.  Don't  doubt  God.  Love  Him  and  you 
will  soon  love  men.  In  reference  to  the  slurs  of  the  lads, 
pay  no  attention  to  them  and  they  will  soon  cease  their 
annoyance.  In  reference  to  your  name  and  the  stain 
upon  it,  resolve  to  make  a  new  name  for  yourself  and 
your  family  by  your  own  conduct.     Can  you  think  of 


THE     SON     OF     A     TRAITOR        25 

anything  more  noble  than  to  labour  against  unfavourable 
circumstances,  against  slander,  encumbered  by  a  stained 
name, — false  though  the  accusation  may  be, — fighting 
against  odds,  and  yet  finally  coming  forth  from  the 
struggle,  a  victor,  having  made  a  new  and  honourable 
name  for  yourself  and  family?  Can  you,  my  lad?" 
Parson  Trant  gave  the  lad  an  affectionate  pat  upon 
the  back. 

There  was  silence  for  a  moment. 

«  Yes,  I  can." 

The  rector  was  taken  aback,  for  he  had  expected  a 
different  answer. 

"  And  what  is  more  noble  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  I  think  it  is  better  to  clean  the  old  name ;  and  I'll 
do  it,  if  I  can."  There  was  a  steady  light  of  purpose 
in  the  eye  of  the  youth,  as  he  replied. 

The  parson  said  nothing  for  a  time  and  they  walked 
on  in  silence  and  then 

"  Perhaps  you  are  right,  lad.  You  are  very  much 
like  your  father.  Those  were  his  words  and  sentiments. 
I  trust  you  may  be  more  successful,  though." 

Parson  Trant,  while  giving  vent  to  these  brief, 
epigrammatic  sentences,  was  thinking  of  another  mat- 
ter,— the  depredations  on  the  estate  of  the  Manor, — and 
had  just  decided  to  broach  that  unhappy  subject.  They 
were  standing  near  the  village  stocks  and  the  parson, 
placing  his  arm  again  in  that  of  Ande,  began  the  sub- 
ject in  an  indirect  manner. 


CHAPTER  III 


THE     RUNAWAY 


"And  as  the  chariot  rolled  along  the  plain, 
Light  from  the  ground  he  leaped,  and  seized  the  rein; 
Thus  hung  in  air,  he  still  retain'd  his  hold. 
The  coursers  frighted,  and  their  course  controlled." 

— Dryden's  Virgil. 

'ANDE,  my  lad,  if » 


His  remarks  were  very  unceremoniously  cut  short  by 
a  shout  from  the  lad. 

"  Look  out,  Mr.  Trant !  A  runaway !  '*  and  before 
he  had  finished  speaking,  he  caught  the  old  parson  by 
the  shoulders  and  gave  him  a  shove  to  one  side  of  the 
road.  Now  the  action  of  the  youth  was  so  quick  and 
with  such  vigour,  that  the  parson  had  no  alternative  but 
to  go  in  a  very  undignified  manner.  His  shovel-shaped 
hat  went  into  the  hedge,  and  with  coat-tails  flying  like 
the  pennants  of  a  man-of-war,  the  parson  was  follow- 
ing, but  tripped  on  some  obstacle  and  plunged  very 
quickly  and  involuntarily  into  a  bunch  of  stinging  net- 
tles and  thistles  by  the  roadside. 

Nor  was  the  action  too  quick,  for  down  the  road, 
galloping  and  plunging  as  if  mad,  her  eyes  flashing  and 
nostrils  distended  with  terror,  came  the  squire's  black 
mare,  Queeny.  A  brief  glance  had  sufficed  for  the 
youth's  quick  eyes.     The  bit  had  broken  in  the  mare's 

S6 


"  There  was  a  vision  of  a  flying,  athletic,  youthful  form  —  clinging 
with  the  grip  of  a  vice — ' ' 


THE    RUNAWAY  27 

mouth.  The  chaise  in  the  rear  rocked  from  side  to  side 
in  a  most  frightful  manner,  but  the  plucky  driver,  Mis- 
tress Alice,  with  resolute  will,  though  pale  with  fear, 
still  held  the  lines,  seeking  in  vain  to  restrain  the  mad- 
dened creature.  There  was  a  quick  thud,  thud,  thud; 
the  creaking  of  wrenched  axle ;  a  rolling  cloud  of  dust ; 
and  through  it  all  in  the  rear  a  strained  face,  beauti- 
ful, yet  fear-stricken,  with  wide,  dark  eyes  and  a  tum- 
bling mass  of  curly  hair  as  black  as  the  clouds  of  a 
moonless  night. 

Then  there  was  a  leap  and  a  vision  of  a  flying,  ath- 
letic, youthful  form,  and  Ande  was  clinging  with  the 
grip  of  a  vise  to  the  black,  flowing  mane.  With  his 
right  arm  up  over  the  animal's  neck,  supporting  him- 
self, with  the  other  hand  he  grasped  the  mare  by  the 
nostrils,  completely  shutting  off  all  air.  Then  there 
was  a  struggle  for  the  mastery.  The  infuriated  crea- 
ture reared,  plunged,  until  there  was  imminent  danger 
of  the  shafts  breaking,  but  the  lad  was  too  strong  to 
be  thus  shaken  off".  There  was  a  cry,  almost  a  shriek, 
like  unto  a  scream  of  human  agony,  from  Queeny.  On, 
on,  on  plunged  the  creature  with  its  human  burden, 
but  there  was  a  slowness  of  speed  until  some  hundred 
yards  from  the  parson's  position,  when  the  runaway  was 
brought  to  a  standstill,  although  trembling  in  every 
limb  with  fright. 

The  squire's  daughter,  only  too  anxious  to  alight  after 
that  mad  ride,  stepped  from  the  chaise,  and  between  her 
petting  and  speaking  to  Queeny  and  Ande's  grip,  that 
he  still  maintained,  the  mare  was  pacified. 


28  ANDE     TREMBATH 

**  Now,"  said  the  lad,  speaking  for  the  first  time, 
"  please  unbuckle  those  backing  straps  and  unhook  the 
traces." 

The  girl,  though  unaccustomed  to  be  ordered  in  this 
manner,  saw  the  necessity  of  complying,  since  her 
rescuer  did  not  dare  to  leave  his  position  at  the  mare's 
head. 

*'  Now,  let  me  have  the  halter  in  the  chaise." 

The  girl  produced  it,  and  the  animal  thus  secured  was 
led  out  of  the  half -ruined  shafts. 

Parson  Trant,  in  the  meantime,  had  disengaged  him- 
self from  the  unwelcome  embrace  of  the  nettles  and 
thistles.  Picking  up  his  shovel-shaped  hat  and  dusting 
it  with  his  handkerchief,  he  placed  it  on  his  head  after 
first  arranging  his  scattered  locks,  and  then  hurried 
forward  to  assist  the  squire's  daughter.  That  young 
lady  had,  however,  finished  the  work  before  his  arrival. 

"  Well,  well,  well !  "  exclaimed  the  parson,  as  he  came 
up,  puffing  with  over-exertion  and  mopping  the  per- 
spiration from  his  brow.  "  That  was  a  narrow  escape. 
Mistress  Alice — thank  God  for  it — also — this  brave 
j-^oung  man.  Mistress  Alice,  this  is  Master  Ande  Trem- 
bath." 

The  parson  in  the  midst  of  his  hurry  had  neither  for- 
gotten his  religion  nor  his  courtesy  that  seemed  inherent 
in  his  very  nature,  but  he  little  realised  the  ludicrous 
figure  he  presented  in  that  scene.  His  neckerchief  was 
all  awry ;  one  coat-tail  was  sadly  torn  by  the  violence 
of  his  fall  and  was  now  hanging  in  a  most  melancholy 
manner  by  a  few  threads  from  his  coat;  his  broadcloth 


THE     RUNAWAY  29 

trowsers  were  soiled  and  covered  with  nettle  stickers 
and  thistle  down;  and  his  hat,  In  the  hurry  of  putting 
it  on,  was  located  on  one  side  of  his  head  In  a  most  rak- 
ish and  disreputable  manner. 

A  silvery  peal  of  laughter  from  the  girl,  which  was 
joined  by  a  hastily  suppressed  chuckle  from  Ande, 
caused  the  rector  to  notice  his  condition  and  he  was 
much  chagrined  In  consequence.  There  was  a  flush  on 
his  countenance  that  made  both  of  the  young  parties 
regret  their  hasty  merriment. 

"  Parson  Trant,  you  must  pardon  my  rudeness  In 
pushing  you  aside,  but  if  I  hadn't  done  it  we  both  might 
have  been  hurt." 

"  To  be  sure,  to  be  sure — don't  mention  It,  my  brave 
lad.  You  did  a  noble  action  and  probably  saved  my 
life  as  well  as  that  of  Mistress  Alice,"  said  the  parson 
kindly,  as  he  patted  the  lad  on  the  back. 

"  And  as  for  me,  dear  Parson  Trant,  I  must'beg  par- 
don for  my  rudeness  In  laughing,"  said  the  girl  with 
regret  in  her  tone,  and  then  turning  to  Ande  she  thanked 
him  for  his  brave  conduct.  "  And  now  you  must  both 
come  up  to  the  Manor  for  lunch,  will  you  not?  O  do, 
please ;  father  will  be  so  delighted." 

Parson  Trant  cast  a  rueful  glance  at  his  clothes, 
saying  he  was  hardly  presentable,  and  then  his  face 
relaxed  into  a  smile  that  widened  into  a  good-humoured 
laugh  as  he  pictured  himself  seated  at  the  squire's  table 
in  his  present  condition.  As  for  the  lad,  the  invitation 
would  have  been  acceptable,  had  he  not  thought  of  the 
squire's  antipathy  toward  himself.     He  declined  also, 


30  ANDE     TREMBATH 

but  accompanied  the  squire's  daughter  to  the  Manor 
gates,  having  first  bid  the  kind-hearted  parson  adieu. 

**  I  can't  tell  why  it  was  that  Queeny  ran  away.  She 
never  acted  that  way  before.  I  was  so  frightened.  It 
was  very  brave  of  you  to  stop  her." 

The  lad  was  a  trifle  confused  under  these  glowing 
tributes  to  his  heroism  and  could  make  but  little  reply. 

"  Trembath — Trembath,"  continued  the  girl  mus- 
ingly, "  why  that's  the  name  of  the  former  owner  of  the 
Manor — that  is,  before  my  grandfather.  They  said  he 
was  killed  in  America,  and  you " 

"  He  was  my  grandfather,"  said  the  youth  with  a 
sensitive  flush  on  his  face.  "  He  was  an  honourable 
man." 

The  flush  on  the  face  of  the  youth  was  reflected  on 
the  countenance  of  the  girl,  for  she  realised  that  she 
had  committed  an  indiscretion  in  referring  to  the  death 
of  his  grandfather. 

There  was  an  embarrassed  silence  for  a  time  and  then 
the  girl  exclaimed, 

"  There's  Ned  Pengilly !  " 

It  was  indeed  the  worthy  lodge-keeper  who  appeared 
at  the  gates.  To  him  Ande  consigned  the  animal  that 
he  was  still  leading  and,  receiving  the  thanks  again  of 
the  girl,  he  turned  and  wended  his  way  toward  home. 
Within  a  short  distance  he  paused  and  turned,  watching 
the  retreating  forms  of  the  girl  and  the  lodge-keeper 
leading  Queeny.  Then,  with  a  feeling  he  knew  not  what, 
he  once  more  continued  his  journey. 


CHAPTER   IV 

THE     PRIMEOSE     COTTAGE     AND     TOM     GLAZE 

*'ANDE,  laddie,  thou  art  late  to-day.  Here  it  is  al- 
most one  o'clock — and — ^why — what  have  you  been  do- 
ing? Hast  been  fighting?  Why,  your  jacket  has  a 
rent  of  fully  five  inches  and  your  trowsers  look  as  if  you 
had  been  rolling  over  in  the  dirt." 

The  scene  was  in  the  main  living  room  of  a  little 
stone  cottage.  Indeed  the  cottage  could  only  boast  of 
having  two  rooms  and  an  attic — ^but  this  room  was  the 
main  living  room.  A  primrose  vine  covered  the  house 
front  and  several  roses  that  still  retained  their  position, 
though  late  in  the  season,  drooped  on  their  stems  over 
the  small,  diamond-shaped  window  panes,  as  if  anxious 
to  catch  a  glimpse  of  the  speaker  within.  A  fire  of  Cor- 
nish furze  and  sea  coal  was  blazing  brightly  in  a  grate 
in  the  chimney.  A  tea-kettle,  suspended  from  a  crane  o'er 
the  fire,  had  been  humming  away  for  quite  a  time  and 
mingling  its  tune  with  the  steady  tick — tick — ^tick  of 
a  great-grandfather  clock  standing  in  the  angle  of  the 
stairs  that  led  up  to  the  attic.  A  harp,  its  gilded  frame- 
work much  tarnished  with  age,  stood  in  the  opposite 
corner  near  the  dresser,  a  striking  contrast  to  the 
humbleness  of  its  surroundings.    A  few  cheap  prints  of 

31 


32  ANDE     TREMBATH 

country  scenes,  one  a  scene  of  Wellington  at  the  battle 
of  Waterloo,  and  a  picture  in  oils  of  a  rugged  soldier — 
an  officer  evidently — who  had  a  striking  resemblance  to 
Ande,  adorned  the  plain  white-washed  walls. 

The  room  altogether  presented  a  cosy  appearance 
and  just  now  was  filled  with  the  odour  of  steeping  tea, 
fresh  biscuit  and  a  scrowled  pilchard — most  welcome 
indeed  to  a  hungry  boy. 

A  kind,  motherly  looking  woman,  who  had  not  yet 
passed  middle  age,  was  busy  laying  a  cloth  on  a  small 
centre  table.  She  had  a  pleasant,  refined  countenance, 
marred  a  little  with  care,  a  countenance  classic  with  its 
profile  and  grey  eyes.  Hair,  dark,  mingled  with  a  few 
grey  streaks,  fell  down  gracefully  o'er  the  ears  from  a 
parting  in  the  centre,  lending  a  sweet,  motherly  appear- 
ance to  the  classic  features.  Though  clad  in  an  ordi- 
nary common  house  dress,  a  stranger  gazing  at  her  for 
the  first  time  would  say  she  must  have  occupied  a  higher 
station  in  life  in  her  earlier  years ;  and  his  estimate  would 
be  correct. 

Mrs.  Thomas  Trembath,  the  mother  of  Ande,  for  it 
was  she,  was  the  daughter  of  William  Borlase,  a  younger 
son  of  a  young  branch  of  that  illustrious  Cornish  fam- 
ily. He  had  been  a  rising  young  barrister  of  Bodman 
town,  and  would  have  won  fame  in  his  profession  had 
not  death  claimed  the  bright  mind.  His  wife  and  child 
managed  to  live  on  a  thousand  pounds  that  constituted 
the  bulk  of  his  little  fortune.  It  was  to  Bodman  that 
Captain  Thomas  Trembath  came,  seven  years  after  the 
war  with  the  American  colonies  terminated.     He  had 


THE     PRIMROSE     COTTAGE        33 

never  married,  partly  because  he  had  been  engaged  in 
the  American  war  and  had  no  time  to  think  of  matri- 
mony ;  partly  because  one  great  thought  absorbed  his 
attention,  the  vindication  of  his  family  name;  and 
partly,  most  potent  reason  of  all,  no  doubt,  he  had  found 
no  lady  of  his  rank  willing  to  take  upon  herself  a  name 
so  stained  with  treason  as  his  own ;  and,  as  for  marrying 
beneath  him,  he  gave  it  not  a  thought.  He  was  then 
approaching  middle  age  and  was  thinking  most  seriously 
of  the  problem,  when,  meeting  young  Mistress  Elizabeth 
Borlase,  he  mentally  decided  the  question.  For  three 
years  this  soldier,  who  had  the  courage  to  face  the 
American  batteries  and  the  charge  of  Washington's 
horse,  attended  the  Borlase  home  before  he  had  the  cour- 
age to  settle  his  doubts.  The  daughter  accepted  him, 
but  when  the  consent  of  the  widow  was  asked  there  was 
a  stormy  scene.  She  was  much  outspoken  against  it, 
alleging  the  difference  in  ages,  the  Captain  being  fully 
fifteen  years  older  than  his  affianced  bride.  The  truth 
of  the  matter  was  that  the  widow  had  resolved  to  secure 
the  handsome  middle-aged  Captain  as  a  mate  for  her- 
self and  was  mortified  to  find  it  was  the  daughter  and 
not  herself  he  desired. 

For  ten  years  no  children  were  bom  of  this  union. 
In  the  year  1805,  however,  a  male  child  was  born. 

"  We  will  call  him  Borlase  Trembath,"  said  the 
mother,  *'  for  he  has  the  Borlase  mouth ;  those  lips  are 
like  his  grandfather's.  He  will  be  a  speaker  and  a  good 
singer." 

As  if  in  testimony  of  his  mother's  opinion  the  babe  set 


84  ANDE    TREMBATH 

up  a  lusty  wail,  sometimes  crescendo,  sometimes  stac- 
cato, then  babbling  recitando,  flourishing  his  fists  and 
kicking  his  limbs  in  animal  spirit. 

"  Oratory  enough  to  oppose  a  Pitt,"  said  the  Cap- 
tain, with  a  grimace,  and  putting  his  fingers  in  his  ears. 
"  He  will  be  a  parliamentarian  some  day,  no  doubt.  See, 
he  is  already  beginning  to  gesture."  Then,  changing  his 
bantering  tone,  "  He  has  the  nose,  the  forehead,  the  blue 
eyes,  the  hair  of  his  grandfather.  Squire  Andrew  Trem- 
,bath,  my  father,  and  why  not  the  name." 

The  wife  saw  the  desire  of  her  husband  and  acquiesced 
in  the  name.    "  He  shall  be  called  Andrew,"  she  said. 

The  Captain,  though  much  pleased  with  the  comforts 
of  home  and  the  presence  of  his  wife  and  child,  still 
retained  the  passion  for  war  and  battlefields.  He  came 
of  a  long  line  of  Cornish  soldiers  and  the  war  spirit  had 
become  intensified  in  himself.  Was  there  any  truth  in 
the  old  legend  of  the  blood  of  the  Danish  freebooters 
mingled  in  his  ancestors,?  He  knew  not  and  gave  it  not 
a  thought.  War  called  him,  and  he  joined  the  Iron  Duke 
in  the  Peninsular  campaign.  When  the  War  of  1812 
with  America  began,  fired  with  the  same  old  passion  to 
redeem  his  family  name  from  the  stain  of  treason,  he 
secured  his  discharge,  with  the  rank  of  major,  and  was 
soon  on  his  way  to  participate  in  that  struggle.  Here 
he  disappeared  after  the  defeat  of  Proctor,  and  his  wife 
and  son,  Ande,  were  succoured  from  dire  distress  and 
want,  into  which  this  event  plunged  them,  by  the  death 
of  the  widow  Borlase.  Her  fortune  of  a  thousand 
pounds,  depleted  somewhat,  was  by  regular  process  of 


THE     PRIMROSE     COTTAGE        35 

law  conferred  upon  Mrs.  Thomas  Trembath.  Such  was 
the  condition  of  affairs  at  the  time  our  tale  opened. 

"  Ande,  laddie,  hast  been  fighting?  " 

"  Well,  I  had  a  bit  of  a  fight  with  Bob  Sloan — a  great 
hulking  bully  'e  is — but  the  master  parted  us.  He 
called  father  and  grandfather  names  and  said  I  was  a 
coward,  and  I  beant  a  coward." 

"  Laddie,  why  are  you  always  picking  up  the  insults 
of  the  lads,  and  how  often  have  I  told  you  about  lan- 
guage.    *  Beant '  isn't  good  English." 

Now  before  the  parson  and  other  dignitaries  Ande 
was  accustomed  to  use  good  language,  but  before  the 
boys  and  at  times  before  his  mother,  he  drifted  into  a 
little  of  the  vernacular. 

*'  Well,  I  forget  sometimes,  mother  dear,  but  my 
torn  clothes  are  due  to  another  affair  and  not  the 
fight." 

The  lad  recited  the  incidents  of  the  runaway,  while 
engaged  in  eating  the  lunch  that  had  been  so  long  de- 
layed. The  mother  listened  with  bright  eyes,  attend- 
ing occasionally  to  the  wants  of  the  table,  and  when 
the  tale  was  fully  narrated,  she  leaned  over  the  back  of 
his  chair,  kissed  his  forehead,  and  called  him  her  "  brave 
kddie." 

"  But,  laddie,  how  rudely  you  must  have  treated  Par- 
son Trant!    Was  he  not  angry  at  his  fall?  " 

"  No,  mother,  parson  saw  that  I  did  not  mean  to 
push  him  down,  but  only  tried  to  get  him  out  of  danger, 
and  he  laughed  afterward,  too." 

The  lunch  was  ended  and  Mrs.  Trembath  was  bustling 


36  ANDE     TREMBATH 

around,  clearing  the  table.  Ande  had  a  project  in  view 
that  afternoon.  It  was  a  half -holiday  and  he  had  pur- 
posed going  to  the  Loe  Pool  with  some  of  his  fellows  to 
gather  shells,  and  a  swim  in  the  lake  or  in  the  sea 
adjoining  was  a  pleasure  to  his  athletic  nature.  The 
Loe  Pool  had  other  fascinations  for  him  also.  What 
wonderful  tales  were  related  about  it !  A  little  sheet  of 
water  below  Helston,  kept  full  by  the  little  River  Cober, 
having  no  outlet  to  the  sea  except  by  percolating 
through  the  sandbar  which  Mother  Ocean,  inhospitably, 
threw  up  between  herself  and  her  child;  yet  was  it  not 
the  remnant  of  the  old  harbour  of  Helston.  He  had 
heard  of  it  from  the  old  Droll  Tellers,  and  loved  to  lie 
on  the  sandbar  meditating,  dreaming  of  the  things  that 
had  happened  there  centuries  before.  He  knew  the 
Phoenicians  had  sailed  over  that  sandbar  with  their  ships 
and  the  Danish  freebooters  in  later  times.  It  was  a 
pleasure  highly  anticipated. 

"  Well,  laddie,  I  suppose  you  must  hurry  back  soon  to 
school." 

"  No,  there's  no  school.  The  master  gave  us  a  half- 
holiday  to-day ;  that  is  the  reason  I  loitered  some  on  the 
way  home." 

"  Then  thou  canst  cut  the  furze  in  the  croft." 

Submissive  to  his  mother,  not  even  mentioning  his 
disappointment,  with  furze  cutter  o'er  his  shoulder,  the 
youth  sallied  forth  and  was  soon  busy  in  the  furze  croft, 
a  sort  of  high,  rough  land  in  which  the  furze  grew. 
The  prickly,  shrubby  plant  grew  around  him  in  great 
abundance,  some  of  them  reaching  the  height  of  three 


THE     PRIMROSE     COTTAGE        37 

feet.  He  paused  for  a  moment  during  which  he  viewed 
with  delight  the  abundance  of  its  golden  flowers,  dap- 
pling the  whole  field  with  its  starlike  disks.  It  was  a 
pity  to  cut  them  down,  thought  the  lad,  but  then  we 
must  have  something  to  burn,  and  what  is  equal  to  furze 
in  a  grate  on  a  cold  evening.?  With  this  thought  he 
again  wielded  the  cutter  with  a  will,  and  the  desired 
amount  was  soon  bound  in  bundles,  ready  to  carry  to 
the  cottage. 

"  Well,  young  squire,  and  how  dost  like  the  work  ?  " 

The  remark  emanated  from  a  tall,  muscular  man,  in 
shirt-sleeves,  who,  leaning  on  the  hedge,  calmly  smoked 
a  "  bob  "  or  short  Cornish  pipe.  He  was  a  little  over 
the  medium  height  but  looked  short  because  of  the  heavy 
shoulders  and  thick,  muscular  arms  and  limbs  which 
nature  and  hard  work  had  given  him.  The  face  was 
kindly,  good-humoured,  honest  and  open.  By  his  gen- 
eral outline  he  was  neither  a  hard  eater  or  drinker. 
There  was  a  suppleness  and  ease  in  this  young  man  of 
twenty-six  that  made  him  admired  by  the  whole  coun- 
try around,  a  suppleness  demonstrated  by  the  ease  with 
which  he  placed  one  hand  on  the  hedge  and  leaped 
lightly  over. 

"  Pretty  well,  thank  'ee,  Tom  Glaze,"  responded 
Ande. 

"  I  'eard  that  thou  and  Bob  Sloan  'ad  a  bit  of  a 
scrimmage  this  maming  and  that  'e  was  a  bit  too  much 
for  'ee.     Is  that  so.?  " 

The  welcome  look  died  out  of  the  lad's  face  and  he 
flushed^  angrily. 


38  ANDE     TREMBATH 

"  There's  no  truth  in  that  at  all,"  he  said,  curtly. 

Glaze  laughed  heartily  and  then,  seeing  he  had 
offended  his  young  friend,  sought  to  soothe  his  spirit. 

"  Come  now,  no  offence,  I  'opes.  There's  no  dishonour 
in  your  being  licked  by  Bob,  seeing  as  how  'e  is  both 
bigger  and  older.  He  'as  beaten  you  when  'ee  were 
smaller,  'asn't  'e.?  " 

"  Yes,  'e  has,  but  I  would  like  to  know  why  you  are 
throwing  the  defeats  at  my  'ead,  when  you  say  they  were 
no  dishonour." 

Tom  Glaze  laughed  again  and  then  seated  himself 
boy-fashion  on  the  turf,  embracing  one  knee  with  his 
great  arms. 

*'  Let  me  tell  'ee  a  tale.  There  was  onc^  a  great 
rogue  elephant  that  lived  in  the  jungles  of  Africey.  He 
was  a  very  bad  'un,  'e  was,  I  can  tell  'ee.  He  'ad  great 
long  tusks  and  a  great  trunk  and  everybody  was  af eared 
of  'im  because  'e  was  so  large.  He  was  mean,  too.  The 
other  elephants  banded  together  and  drove  'im  from  the 
herd,  and  in  spite  'e  began  to  abuse  all  the  other  ani- 
mals of  the  jungle.  There  was  also  a  young  lion  that 
come  that  way  one  day.  He  'adn't  been  long  away  from 
'is  mother's  'ome  in  the  jungle,  but  he  thought  'e  was 
big  enough  to  go  forth  to  seek  'is  fortune  in  the  world. 
He  was  a-lying  asleep  in  the  path  when  Mr.  Elephant 
come  by.  *  Out  of  my  way,'  bellowed  the  elephant. 
Young  Lion  reared  up  and  says  he  wasn't  going  to  move 
a  step.  With  that  Mr.  Bad  Elephant  seized  'im  with 
'is  trunk  and  flung  'im  pretty  'ard  into  the  bush  and 
walked   on.      What   did   Young   Lion    do.'^      He   went 


THE     PRIMROSE     COTTAGE        39 

straight  'ome  to  'is  father  and  told  'im  all  about  it  and 
'is  father  was  pretty  mad,  but  'e  didn't  say  much.  He 
thought  a  bit  and  then  'e  said :  '  My  son,  'ee  need  a  few 
tricks  of  the  lion  trade.'  And  then  he  began  to  teach 
'im  some  of  the  tricks,  'ow  to  spring  and  where  to  land. 
The  next  time  Young  Lion  met  Mr.  Bad  Elephant,  'e 
'ad  all  the  tricks  of  the  trade  and  'e  just  beat  the  ele- 
phant all  around,  clawed  'im  up  so  that  'is  best  friends 
wouldn't  know  'im.  The  animals  of  the  jungle  all  come 
together  and  gave  a  public  feast  in  honour  of  Young 
Lion  and  they  thought  'e  was  a  public  hero." 

Tom  Glaze  ceased  speaking,  and  smiled  again. 

The  lad  said  nothing. 

Now  this  Tom  Glaze  had  always  inspired  Ande  Trem- 
bath  with  admiration.  Tom  had  been  a  tin  miner  for 
years,  but  he  also  had  another  calling.  Cornwall  was 
and  always  will  be  noted  for  her  wrestlers  and  boxers, 
and,  though  Glaze  was  not  a  champion,  he  was  on  the 
highway  to  that  distinction.  There  were  only  three 
or  four  wrestlers  in  the  whole  country  that  he  could  not 
defeat.  In  addition  to  this  he  was  ah.,  all-round  athlete. 
Many  a  time  Ande  had  seen  him  break  the  head  of  his 
opponent  at  the  contest  of  quarter-staff  at  the  county 
fairs. 

"  Now  why  do  I  tell  'ee  about  thy  defeats?     Why? 
'Cause  I've  sized  'ee  up,  many  a  time,  and  says  I  to 
myself,  that  with  summat  of  a  training  thee  could  do 
wonders.    All  'ee  needs  is  the  tricks  and  the  training." 
*  "  And  could  I  beat  Bob  ?  "  asked  Ande,  eagerly. 

**  Bob  ?     Aye,  and  two  like  'im,  and  I  would  like  to 


40  ANDE     TREMBATH 

see  'ee  do  it.  Now  thee  art  about  through  with  furze 
cutting  let  me  give  'ee  a  lesson  or  two." 

Ande  sprang  nimbly  to  his  feet  and  Tom  having 
arisen,  they  set  to  work. 

What  tugging  there  was  in  the  scrimmages !  What 
dodging!  At  first  it  was  slow  work,  but  as  the  lad 
learned  point  after  point  he  speedily  put  them  into  prac- 
tice. With  all  his  heart,  with  the  remembrance  of 
Bob's  insults  strong  within  him,  with  the  consciousness 
of  his  strength  yet  undeveloped,  and  with  the  burning 
desire  to  avenge  some  of  those  insults  to  his  family 
honour,  Trembath  was  resolved  to  profit  by  the  instruc- 
tion of  his  teacher. 

"  Bravo !  Bravo !  That  was  finely  done,"  exclaimed 
Tom,  when  the  youth,  having  learned  a  new  dodge  and 
counter,  put  the  same  into  practice  in  a  way  that  de- 
lighted the  wrestler. 

"  Now,  I  suppose  we  'ad  better  go  'ome,  as  thy  mother 
may  be  looking  for  'ee.  But,  mind  'ee,  my  lad,  doant'ee 
go  a-telling  of  this.  Doant  'ee  go  a-telling.  Why? 
'Cause  you  want  to  take  Bully  Bob  by  surprise.  Thee 
meet  me  'ere  every  evening,  and  thee  will  soon  knack 
Bob  off  'is  pins." 

The  good-humoured  wrestler  vaulted  the  hedge  and 
strode  lightly  and  rapidly  away,  while  Ande  shouldered 
his  burden  of  furze  and  started  toward  the  Primrose 
Cottage. 


CHAPTER  V 


55  1 


THE    BIG    HA     BIBLE,    ANCE    HIS    FATHER  S    PEIDE. 

Burns  has  beautifully  described  the  cotter's  Satur- 
day night,  but  that  was  the  cotter  of  Scotland.  Corn- 
wall, too,  has  that  beautiful  and  appropriate  custom, 
not  only  of  closing  the  week  but  also  the  day  with  the 
worship  of  God. 

Supper  is  over  in  the  Primrose  Cottage.  The  sun 
is  slowly  sinking  to  rest  in  the  watery  bed  of  the  western 
sea,  flecking  and  streaking  the  distant  blue  into  a  varie- 
gated coverlet  for  its  nightly  repose.  In  a  few  hours 
twilight  will  come  and  then  night  with  its  darkening 
mantle.  The  main  living  room  of  the  cottage  is  gilded 
by  the  slanting  sunbeams  that  glisten  through  the  small, 
diamond  window  panes  and  the  open  doorway.  The 
floor  of  stone  has  been  freshly  sanded  with  white  sea 
sand  and  raked  and  marked  in  neat  figures.  Ande  Trem- 
bath  is  interested  in  a  new  tale  that  seems  fascinating 
to  him.  It  is  Scott's  "  Lady  of  The  Lake."  Mrs.  Trem- 
bath  is  seated  in  a  comfortable  rocking  chair,  knitting, 
for  Ande  must  have  warm  stockings  for  the  coming 
cold  weather.  The  hour  of  worship  peals  out  from  the 
great  clock  in  the  corner  of  the  stairs.  Without  a  word, 
the  lad  places  away  the  tale  he  has  been  perusing  and 
picks  up  the  worn  gilded  volume  of  God's  word.     The 

^Burns'  "Cotter's  Saturday  Night," 
41 


42  ANDE     TREMBATH 

mother  places  her  knitting  on  the  small  side  table  and 
prepares  to  listen,  while  her  laddie  opens  the  book  with 
care  at  the  One  Hundred  and  Fifth  Psalm.  The  reading 
of  God's  providence  revealed  there  seemed  to  have  addi- 
tional interest  for  the  lad,  and  he  paused  for  a  moment 
over  the  eighteenth  verse  and  thought  over  the  parson's 
morning  talk.  The  Scripture  ended,  the  mother  and  son 
kneel  in  prayer,  using  not  only  the  prayer  of  ordinary 
evening  worship,  but  that  other  prayer  for  the  safety 
of  those  astray  on  sea  or  land,  and  as  the  mother  reads 
reverently  the  latter  prayer,  the  thoughts  of  both  are 
concentrated  on  the  dear  one  lost  amidst  the  American 
wilds  eight  long  years  ago.  Then  followed  the  Lord's 
prayer,  repeated  in  concert,  until  the  part  "  forgive  us 
our  trespasses  as  we  forgive  those  who  trespass  against 
us,"  where  the  lad's  voice  faltered,  and  ceased  for  a 
moment,  resuming  the  prayer  in  concert  with  his  mother 
when  the  phrase  was  passed. 

The  prayers  were  ended  and  the  harp  was  brought 
forth  with  loving  care.  The  lad  handled  it  with  rev- 
erence, for  it  was  his  father's,  and  his  grandfather's,  and 
he  knew  not  how  far  it  had  dwelt  in  the  annals  of  his 
family.  Then  came  the  strains  of  Bishop  Ken's  Even- 
ing Hymn, 

"Glory  to  Thee,  my  God,  this  night. 
For  all  the  blessings  of  the  light; 
Keep  me,  O    keep  me,  King  of  kings, 
Under  Thine  own  almighty  wings." 

The  worship  was  finished  and  the  Word,  the  prayer 
book,  and  the  harp  replaced  in  their  usual  positions ; 


THE     "BIG     HA'     BIBLE"  43 

Ande  had  returned  to  his  "  Lady  of  The  Lake,"  the 
mother  to  her  knitting.  There  was  no  sound  for  a  time 
save  the  monotonous  click,  click  of  the  knitting  needles, 
keeping  up  a  sort  of  recitative  duet  with  the  tick,  tick 
of  the  clock. 

*'  Ande,  laddie,  why  is  it  that  thou  dost  not  repeat  the 
whole  of  the  Lord's  prayer  with  me  ?  I  have  noticed  the 
last  few  times  and  have  wondered." 

The  lad  was  silent  for  a  moment  and  his  face  flushed. 

*'  I  cannot,  mother  dear,"  he  said  simply. 

"Why,  laddie.?" 

*'  Because  there  are  some  I  cannot  forgive,  it  seems. 
There's  Sir  James  Lanyan  and  Richard,  his  son,  Squire 
Vivian,  and  Bob  Sloan,  and — and — they  treat  a  person 
mean.  When  I  think  of  the  Lanyans  and  Squire  Vivian 
and  how  they  or  their  people  treated  ours  and  took  away 
the  estate,  and — and  when  I  think  to-day  how  they  treat 
father's  and  grandfather's  memory,  I  cannot  feel  like 
forgiving  them  and  I  can't  say  '  forgive  us  our  tres- 
passes as  we  forgive  those  who  trespass  against  us,'  for 
that  would  be  asking  God  not  to  forgive  me." 

As  Ande  Trembath  referred  to  the  Lanyans  there  was 
an  angry  light  in  his  eyes,  which  softened  into  gloom 
as  he  spoke  of  the  Lord's  prayer. 

**  Ande,  laddie,  we  must  pray  to  God  to  help  us  to  for- 
give. '  If  ye  forgive  not  men  their  trespasses,  neither 
will  your  heavenly  Father  forgive  your  trespasses.'  " 

The  widow  was  silent.  She  felt  as  keenly  as  her  *  lad- 
die '  the  injustice  done  the  Trembath  family  and  there 
was  a  half -inaudible  sigh  from  her  lips.     She  had  not 


44  ANDE     TREMBATH 

that  bitter,  unforgiving  spirit,  but  she  knew  the  temper 
and  spirit  of  her  laddie.  Will  time  ever  remove  the 
sting  of  an  unjust  act?  she  thought.  It  was  of  no  use 
to  urge  the  point  now  with  her  boy.     She  must  think. 

There  was  a  clicking  of  the  garden  gate;  a  step  was 
heard  on  the  stone  garden  walk,  and  a  figure  appeared 
at  the  door.  It  was  that  of  a  man  clad  in  livery  dress — 
knee-breeches  of  nankeen,  long  stockings,  and  low  shoes 
with  immense  silver  buckles,  and  a  coat  of  velveteen.  In 
short,  he  was  clad  very  much  like  a  gentleman  of  the 
period  fifteen  years  before,  but  inasmuch  as  the  major- 
ity of  the  gentry  had  adopted  the  new  costume  of  trow- 
sers,  the  knee-breeches,  low  shoes,  and  long  stockings 
generally  indicated  the  servant.  And  such  he  was — 
Master  Stephen  Blunt,  Squire  Vivian's  steward.  Mas- 
ter Blunt  doffed  his  cap  and  hesitated  a  moment.  Mrs. 
Trembath  paled  a  little,  for  the  steward  was  scarcely 
ever  the  bearer  of  good  news.  He  was  a  general  fac- 
totum of  the  squire.  He  rented  farms,  collected  the 
dues,  was  an  officer  of  justice,  the  terror  of  small  boys, 
and,  in  short,  was  a  kind  of  constable,  sheriff,  and 
prime  minister  of  the  squire's  little  domain. 

Concerning  the  rent  there  was  nothing  to  fear,  for 
the  Trembath's  had  owned  in  fee  simple  as  it  was  called, 
for  many  years,  the  Primrose  cottage  and  the  few  fields 
adjoining. 

Master  Blunt  was  a  silent  man,  not  wasting  many 
words. 

"  The  squire  wanted  to  see  Ande  a  bit,"  he  stated. 

A  new  thought  flashed  across  the  mother's  mind.    It 


THE     "BIG    HA'     BIBLE"  45 

was  her  laddie's  bravery  in  stopping  the  runaway  in 
the  morning.  Yes,  the  squire  was  going  to  reward  her 
laddie  and  a  more  favourable  understanding  was  going 
to  be  established  between  the  squire's  people  and  theirs. 
She  communicated  her  opinion  to  her  boy  in  a  whisper 
as  she  assisted  in  getting  him  ready.  There  was  a  smile 
of  happiness  on  her  countenance  which  Master  Blunt, 
seated  on  the  garden  settle  outside,  did  not  observe. 

Ande  Trembath,  however,  was  not  so  happy  to  go. 
Honour  heaped  upon  him  for  an  act  that  he  considered 
only  an  ordinary  matter-of-fact  affair,  and  especially 
by  one  whom  he  considered  in  the  light  of  an  enemy,  to 
be  hated  and  to  be  hated  in  return,  was  distasteful  to 
him ;  but  he  knew  the  necessity  of  going,  as  one  did  not 
dare  disobey  the  squire. 


CHAPTER  VI 

SQUIRE    AND    PAELIAMENTAEIAN 

Thud,  thud,  thud,  thud. 

Squire  Vivian  was  riding  at  a  smart  pace  on  the  solid 
roads.  He  was  fond  of  horse-back  riding,  but  long  ago, 
having  given  up  riding  afte^  the  hounds,  he  was  con- 
strained to  solace  himself  by  daily  trips  over  the  turn- 
pike. This  was  not  exercise,  howe\'^er.  He  must  see  his 
old  friend,  Sir  James  Lanyan,  about  one  or  two  things, 
and  so,  after  a  hasty  lunch  and  a  word  of  instruction  to 
the  steward,  he  mounted  his  fast-pacing  cob  and  was 
off.  His  thoughts  were  not  very  pleasant  as  he  started 
forth.  He  was  thinking  of  the  conversation  he  had  had 
with  Parson  Trant  just  a  short  time  before. 

"  The  lad  is  guilty,"  he  muttered,  and  then  there  was 
silence  save  for  the  rapid  hoof  strokes. 

"  He  shall  smart  for  it.    The  traitor's  cub !  " 

The  squire  compressed  his  lips  and  the  frown  on  his 
ruddy  features  boded  ill  to  Ande  Trembath.  Then  pleas- 
ant thoughts  gained  the  upper  hand.  He  had  reached 
the  confines  of  his  estate  and  the  fields  and  woods  of  Lan- 
yan Hall  stretched  on  either  side  of  the  highway.  There 
were  round  hillocks  nodding  like  Indian  chieftains  with 
their  proud  headgear,  downs  aUve  with  cattle  and  sheep, 
farmhouses  of  stone — as  short  and  thick-set  in  appear- 

46 


SQUIRE  AND  PARLIAMENTARIAN  47 

ance  as  the  sturdy  farmers  that  occupied  them.  Yes, 
thought  Squire  Vivian,  with  a  smile,  these  shall  belong 
to  Alice  when  she  marries  young  Richard.  My  Lady 
Alice  sounds  as  good  as  any  other  name  with  a  Lady 
attached  to  it.  The  pleasant  expression  passed  and  a 
worried  look  came  in  its  place.  He  was  thinking  of  the 
Parson's  disapprobation  of  young  Richard.  The  vale 
was  passed  and  Lanyan  moor,  as  wild  and  uninviting  as 
his  thoughts — Lanyan  moor,  a  high  rough  land  of  a  few 
miles  in  extent,  covered  with  a  rank,  rough  grass,  ex- 
tended on  either  side.  Under  the  influence  of  his  sur- 
roundings and  pressed  by  his  thoughts,  the  squire 
spurred  the  cob  into  a  gallop  and  after  a  few  minutes 
the  gables  and  tower  of  Lanyan  Hall  greeted  his  vision. 
It  was  a  stately  mansion,  built  partly  in  the  Queen 
Anne  style  and  partly  in  the  style  of  previous  times, 
one  side  being  built  during  the  Crusades,  of  Cornish 
moor-stone  that  lent  a  heavy  warrior-like  appearance  to 
the  whole  structure. 

The  owner,  Sir  James  Lanyan,  a  son  of  that  Lanyan 
whose  agitation  in  certain  quarters  of  the  government 
had  produced  the  confiscation  of  the  Trembath  estates, 
like  his  grandfather,  had  devoted  considerable  time  to 
politics  and  had  been  twice  in  Parliament ;  but  failing 
of  re-election  he  had  turned  the  strength  of  his  ambi- 
tious mind  to  the  rebuilding  of  his  fortunes,  which  were 
sadly  shattered  by  the  schemes  and  speculations  of  his 
grandfather. 

His  grandfather,  in  cooperation  with  Sunderland, 
the  Premier  of  that  time,  had  been  unduly  interested 


48  ANDE     TREMBATH 

in  the  South  Sea  Bubble ;  but  though  Sunderland  cleared 
his  skirts  in  the  gigantic  swindle,  Sir  James,  Sr.,  was  en- 
trapped. His  estates  were  heavily  mortgaged  and  his 
private  fortune  ruined.  He  died  of  a  broken  heart,  be- 
queathing to  Sir  Richard,  Sr.,  his  son,  the  ancestral 
hall  and  its  liabilities. 

Sir  Richard,  Sr.,  was  a  rogue,  with  very  little  ability. 
Casting  about  by  hook  or  crook  to  retrieve  his  father's 
reverses,  he  thought  he  saw  an  opportunity  in  the  re- 
puted treason  of  Squire  Andrew  Trembath.  His  covet- 
ous eye  surveyed  the  rich  farms  and  woods  adjoining 
his  own,  and  so,  with  the  outward  reason  of  loyalty  to 
King  George,  and  the  inward  hope  of  profit,  he  turned 
the  keen  eyes  of  government  authorities  upon  the 
matter. 

The  name  of  the  Stuart  and  France  were  still  to 
be  dreaded.  The  first  tendency  in  that  direction  must 
be  crushed  and  an  example  made.  The  fiat  went  forth, 
the  estates  were  confiscated,  but  Sir  Richard,  Sr.,  instead 
of  receiving  them  or  even  a  money  reward,  received  a 
flattering  letter  from  London,  a  ribbon  of  honour  and  a 
star.  With  a  muttered  oath  he  flung  the  bauble  from 
him  and  ground  the  letter  under  his  heel.  He  knew 
what  all  men  were  to  know  in  time,  that  neither  New- 
castle nor  Pitt  were  as  free-handed  as  Walpole. 

The  present  Sir  James,  a  son  of  Sir  Richard,  Sr.,  had 
inherited  the  bold,  daring,  scheming  ambition  of  his 
grandfather,  and  was  in  every  way  superior  to  his  father, 
Richard.  At  first,  a  great  Parliament  man,  he  gradu- 
ally lost  power  with  the  electors,  or  rather  they  lost  in- 


SQUIRE  AND  PARLIAMENTARIAN  49 

terest  in  him ;  then  he  turned  his  attention  to  the  task 
in  which  both  his  father  and  grandfather  had  laboured 
in  vain. 

On  the  day  mentioned,  the  squire  rode  up  the  drive- 
way and  with  a  sigh,  for  'the  gallop  had  wearied  him. 
He  slipped  from  the  saddle,  gave  the  cob  into  the  hands 
of  a  servant,  and  mounting  the  veranda,  raised  the  rap- 
per and  sent  a  peal  through  the  old  house  that  speedily 
brought  to  the  door  a  footman,  clad  in  green  livery.  By 
him  he  was  ushered  into  the  main  living  room — a  large 
hall,  its  walls  curiously  and  artistically  panelled  in  wood. 
Here  he  reposed  himself  in  a  large  armchair  by  the  open 
fireplace  and  awaited,  musingly,  the  coming  of  Sir 
James. 

Yes,  thought  the  squire,  a  fine  old  place — a  fine  old 
place — and  my  Allie  will  be  one  of  the  first  of  Corn- 
wall.   Then  he  mused  on. 

There  was  a  sound  of  a  soft  tread  on  the  floor  behind 
him,  and  a  smooth,  liquid  baritone  voice  broke  the 
reverie. 

"  Well,  my  old  friend,  so  you  have  decided  to  return 
my  call." 

The  squire  almost  leaped  to  his  feet,  for,  lost  in  his 
thoughts,  the  voice  startled  him. 

"  Zounds !     Sir  James,  you  come  in  like  a  spirit." 

Perhaps  there  were  not  two  men  in  the  whole  king- 
dom of  such  a  contrast  as  Sir  James  and  the  squire  of 
Trembath  Manor.  The  latter  was  a  perfect  picture  of 
the  gentleman  of  the  olden  school.  His  hair,  silvery 
white,  curled  in  ringlets  over  his  forehead.     His  face 


50  ANDE     TREMBATH 

was  a  sturdy  English  one,  smooth,  round,  rubicund  and 
pleasant,  and  yet  with  a  dignity  peculiarly  its  own.  He 
was  stoutly  built  and  as  he  stood  switching  his  Welling- 
ton boots  with  his  riding  whip,  a  close  student  would  say, 
"  Here  is  a  man  easily  imposed  upon,  but  when  that 
imposture  stood  revealed  what  a  hot,  indignant  enemy 
he  would  make !  " 

Honesty,  frankness,  integrity,  were  stamped  all  over 
the  old  squire's  frame. 

Sir  James  was  just  the  opposite  In  many  respects.  He 
was  tall,  dark,  and  sallow  of  countenance.  A  hooked 
nose,  like  the  beak  of  an  eagle,  overhung  a  mouth  that 
was  firm  and  thin-lipped.  His  eyes,  that  were  the 
strangest  feature  about  him,  were  dark  and  had  an  un- 
steady, shifting  light  in  them.  He  was  clad  in  the  con- 
ventional broadcloth  tail-coat  and  trowsers  of  the  same 
material.  A  man  of  the  world,  having  felt  the  pulse  of 
national  life,  he  was  generally  cool,  calm,  and  self- 
possessed. 

With  the  remark  above  mentioned,  he  came  forward 
and  his  own  pale,  slim  hand  was  grasped  by  the  strong, 
brown  one  of  the  squire. 

"  Welcome  to  Lanyan  Hall.  It  is  not  often  we  have 
the  pleasure  of  entertaining  such  an  old  friend  of  the 
family;  and  how  are  all  things  at  the  Manor.?  Mistress 
Alice,  is  she  well?  " 

"  My  Allie  is  tolerable  well,  but  of  her — more  anon. 
It  Is  of  other  matters,  not  so  well,  in  which  I  want  your 
advice." 

"  Ah — and  what  Is  wrong?    The  rents  not  paid,  fail- 


SQUIRE  AND  PARLIAMENTARIAN  61' 

ure  of  your  tin  mine,  or  has  Midnight  Jack  been  mak- 
ing some  depredations  on  your  hen  roosts  or  sheep- 
folds?" 

"  Well,"  rejoined  the  squire,  as  he  once  more  seated 
himself  beside  the  fire,  his  friend  having  done  likewise, 
"  as  to  Wheal  Whimbfe  tin  mine,  things  are  moving 
steadily,  but  the  new  shaft  is  costing  a  heap  of  money. 
The  rockmen  dull  six  or  seven  jumpers  before  they  can 
make  much  of  an  impression  in  drilling  a  hole,  and 
though  they  receive  ten  pounds  a  foot,  yet  say  they  can't 
make  a  living.  I  don't  see  how  I  am  goli'g  to. come  out 
of  it.  As  to  rents,  they  have  all  been  paid  but  Farmer 
Samson's,  but  quite  a  few  of  his  sheep  were  taken  with 
the  murrain,  and  one  must  give  a  man  a  chance  when 
he's  honest." 

"  And  about  Midnight  Jack.?  " 

*'  As  sturdy  a  knave  as  ever  lived,  but  he  and  his 
gipsy  band  have  left  the  neighbourhood  some  time  ago. 
I  suspected  him  of  stealing  a  sheep  and  threatened  to 
have  him  hanged  if  he  showed  nigh  the  place.  He  knows 
well  enough  not  to  fool  with  me.  I  don't  think  we  shall 
ever  be  annoyed  with  him  again.  There  has  been, 
though,  some  unknown  miscreant  lurking  around  the 
estate.  I  do  not  mind  so  much  when  a  sheep  is  stolen, 
I  can  reprimand  a  man  and  threaten  him  as  I  did  Mid- 
night Jack,  but  when  property  is  wilfully  destroyed 
and  faithful  retainers  killed — it  is  too  much,"  and  the 
squire  flushed,  angrily. 

"Why,  there  has  been  no  murder?"  said  Sir  James, 
startled  out  of  his  ordinary  self-possession. 


52  ANDE     TREMBATH 

"  Aye,  as  good  as  a  murder,"  rejoined  the  squire,  and 
he  related  with  flushed  countenance  and  angry  voice  the 
incidents  of  the  morning. 

The  master  of  Lanyan  Hall  interrupted  him  midway 
by  asking  him  to  the  study,  where  they  could  talk  at 
their  leisure.  They  arose  and  passed  from  the  main 
hall  to  a  side  apartment  fitted  up  in  elaborate  style. 
There^  surrounded  by  tomes  of  learning  and  every  mark 
of  ease  and  comfort,  the  squire  and  his  friend  were  soon 
discussing  the  former's  grievances  and  suspicions. 

"  Now,  what  I  want  to  know  is  this,  what  does  the  law 
allow  a  man  to  do  in  such  circumstances?  You,  Sir 
James,  are  well  versed  iix  law,  have  been  to  Parliament 
and  can  advise  me.  I  confess  I  cannot  find  anything 
about  it  in  the  statutes." 

"  Well,  the  only  thing  you  can  do,  having  nothing 
but  suspicion,  is  to  have  a  private  interview  with  the 
lad  and  worm  a  confession  out  of  him,"  said  Sir  James, 
and  there  was  a  scarcely  perceptible  little  smile  of 
amusement  that  lingered  around  the  lips  of  Lanyan. 

"  I  am  pleased  to  find  out  that  I  have  acted  wisely, 
for  that  was  exactly  my  plan,"  said  the  squire,  flushing 
with  gratified  vaoity  to  think  that  his  views  and  the 
learned  parliamentarian's  coincided.  "  And  "now  what 
are  your  plans  for  reelection  to  Parliament  ?  " 

"  Reelection.     Plans — none  at  all,  friend  Vivian." 

*'  Why,  you  are  certainly  going  to  stand  for  the  sec- 
tion, are  you  not.'' " 

"  No,  I  think  not ;  my  interest  is  not  strong  enough 
with  the  classes.    To  tell  the  truth,  squire,  I  am  heartily 


SQUIRE  AND  PARLIAMENTARIAN  53 

disgusted  with  Tory  principles,  and  were  it  not  for  the 
name  I  would  become  a  Liberal." 

"What!  what!"  said  the  squire  aghast;  "you  jest, 
Sir  James !  " 

"  Jest !  Not  at  all.  It  is  this  way.  It  matters  not 
what  talents  a  person  may  possess,  he  must  stand  in  with 
a  few  of  one's  brother  notables  before  election  is  pos- 
sible. Our  elections  are  nothing  but  a  humbug.  We 
have  no  representative  house;  the  House  of  Commons 
does  not  represent  the  nation." 

"  Why,  Sir  James,  you  did  not  talk  this  way  formerly, 
and  I  am  exceedingly  sorry  to  see  one  of  our  most  dis- 
tinguished parliamentarians  so  inveterately  opposed  to 
the  system." 

The  master  of  Lanyan  Hall  said  nothing  in  reply. 
Indeed  he  was  inwardly  debating  with  himself  how  far 
he  should  trust  his  honest  friend  with  his  own  plans  and 
schemes.  The  fact  was  that  Sir  James  had  lost  his  influ- 
ence with  the  electors  and  saw  no  hope  but  in  an  ex- 
tended franchise ;  he  was  politician  enough  to  see  that 
the  times  were  getting  ripei  and  riper  for  reform.  There 
was  more  hope  of  election  for  him  in  the  future  than  at 
the  present ;  he  must  bide  his  time.  Now  it  was  not 
any  great  affection  for  the  people  that  induced  him  to 
take  this  stand.  His  political  creed  was  James  Lan- 
yan— how  can  he  become  great  and  powerful,  a  creed 
dominant  among  politicians  of  all  times. 

"  Well,  we  must  talk  of  that  more  anon.  There  is 
another  matter  pressing  on  my  mind,"  said  the  squire, 
and  with  a  little  reluctance  he  began  the  topic.    "  Young 


54  ANDE     TREMBATH 

Master  Richard  has  been  paying  some  attentions  to  my 
Allie,  and  it  is  a  matter  that  we  fathers  ought  to  talk 
about.  There  is  nothing  dearer  to  my  life  than  my 
Allie,  and  I  am  anxious  to  see  her  settled  in  life  before 
I  leave  the  earth ;  but  then  you,  Sir  James,  and  I  ought 
to  have  some  understanding  before  matters  go  any  far- 
ther. Our  estates  lie  adjoining.  What  better  thing 
than  that  they  should  be  united  after  you  and  I  pass 
away.  I  thought  it  better,  though,  to  speak  to  you,  so 
that  we  might  have  a  clear  understanding."  The  old 
squire  fastened  his  clear,  honest  eyes  on  the  master  of 
Lanyan.  The  latter  was  silent  and  there  was  a  gleam  in 
the  shifty  light  of  his  eyes  as  he  thought.  Then  he 
spoke. 

"  A  good  thing,  no  doubt,  if  there  are  no  ob j  ections 
on  your  part." 

The  master  of  Lanyan  stretched  out  his  hand  which 
was  grasped  heartily  by  the  squire. 

"  It's  a  compact,"  said  the  former. 

**  Aye,  a  compact,"  affirmed  the  latter. 

There  was  a  tap  at  the  door  and  a  servant  entered  to 
announce  tea  in  the  hall.  Squire  and  parliamentarian 
adjourned  their  informal  meeting  and  emerged  from 
the  study. 


It's  a  compact,"  said  the  former 


CHAPTER  VII 


TEA-TABLE   AND     POLITICS 


There  were  three  parties  assembled  around  the  tea- 
table,  bluff  Captain  Thomas  Lanyan,  a  brother  of  Sir 
James,  a  sturdy  old  widower ;  Mistress  Betty  Lanyan — 
a  spinster  and  a  distant  relative  of  the  family,  and  Mas- 
ter Richard — a  young  man  in  his  last  year  in  Eton  and 
the  perfect  counterpart  of  his  father,  only  much 
younger. 

Mistress  Betty  was  tall  and  angular,  like  Sir  James, 
yet  with  a  good  supply  of  feminine  sweetness  in  her  fea- 
tures. The  sole  drawback  to  her  countenance  was  her 
nose,  that  was  neither  a  thing  of  beauty  nor  grace.  It 
was  of  the  large  hooked  variety,  so  common  to  the  fam- 
ily. Yet  so  strange  are  the  freaks  of  Madam  Nature, 
that  the  eagle  nose  of  Sir  James  was  universally  com- 
mended as  giving  him  the  commanding  and  dignified 
appearance  of  a  statesman ;  while  one  of  the  same  variety 
on  the  countenance  of  Mistress  Betty  was  considered 
exceedingly  derogatory  and  shrewish.  Notwithstand- 
ing this  detractive  feature.  Mistress  Betty  was  a  good- 
hearted  soul.  She  always  had,  at  least  in  company,  that 
mellow  smile  on  her  face  that  gave  a  vivid  reality  to  the 
stanza, 

"  Full  many  a  flower  is  born  to  blush  unseen. 
And  waste  its  f ragrapce  on  the  desert  ^ir,'' 

65 


66  ANDE     TREMBATH 

The  Captain  was  moulded  more  like  his  mother's  side 
of  the  house.  Clear  grey  eyes  lighted  up  a  countenance 
that  was  rugged  and  weather-beaten,  while  the  family 
nose  was  absent  and  in  its  place  was  the  straight,  plain 
variety  characteristic  of  his  mother's  family.  Over 
his  forehead  was  a  long,  livid  scar  that  ran  from  the 
centre  of  the  forehead,  obliquely,  to  the  right  ear,  a 
cavalry  slash  of  the  battle  of  Waterloo.  Mistress  Betty 
always  persisted  in  having  this  covered  by  the  Captain's 
waving  grey  hair,  but  the  Captain  would  just  as  per- 
sistently throw  his'  hair  up  and  to  one  side,  revealing 
the  full  extent  of  his  old  wound.  What  Mistress  Bfftty 
was  ashamed  of  was  the  Captain's  glory.  Captain  Tom 
lived  in  tolerable  contentment  on  a  government  pension, 
and  of  all  the  family,  none  were  upon  such  intimate 
terms  with  the  squire  as  himself. 

"Ah,  Captain  Tom,  what  cheer?  "  said  the  Squire  as 
he  cordially  shook  the  hand  of  the  veteran.  "  And  Mas- 
ter Richard,  you  are  quite  a  man  and  every  inch  like 
your  father.  And  Mistress  Betty,  I  hope  I  see  you 
well,"  and  the  squire  made  a  profound*  bow  that  would 
shame  an  old-time  knight,  at  the  same  time  grasping 
her  small  hand  delicately  with  his  own. 

The  salutations  were  returned  and  then,  seated  around 
the  tea-table  that  was  placed  near  the  immense  bow- 
window,  the  master  of  Lanyan  requested  his  guest  to 
pronounce  the  blessing.  The  squire,  who  was  seated 
beside  Mistress  Betty,  perhaps  designedly,  who  knows, 
for  that  lady  had  not  given  up  the  custom  of  angling, 
proceeded  according  to  his  usual  custom. 


TEA-TABLE     AND     POLITICS      57 

"  We  thank  thee Oh !  zounds  and  the  devil !  " 

The  latter  part  was  like  the  explosion  of  a  battery 
of  artillery,  and  with  reason.  Mistress  Betty's  lap-dog, 
an  unsightly  brute,  deeming  himself  insulted  by  the 
proximity  of  the  squire,  or  perhaps  jealous  of  his  mis- 
tress' attentions  to  another — like  many  a  human  re- 
jected suitor  filled  with  vengeful  spleen,  or  perhaps — 
kept  waiting  for  his  dinner — and  seeing  a  fat  limb  much 
larger  than  the  usual  chicken  leg  near  him,  he  decided 
to  forage  for  himself.  Whatever  reason  he  had  within 
him,  the  results  were  the  same,  for  he  fastened  his  teeth 
most  vindictively  in  the  squire's  nankeen  trowsers. 
Human  nature  was  not  proof  against  such  an  assault, 
and  the  victim  gave  vent  to  the  above  startling  and  most 
unseemly  expression.  He  leaped  up  from  the  table,  slap- 
ping and  rubbing  the  affected  part  to  relieve  the  pain. 

The  young  Etonian  had  a  grin  on  his  generally  calm 
countenance.  Captain  Tom  with  more  zeal  than  wis- 
dom grasped  the  poker  and  shoved  it  through  the  bars 
of  the  grate,  saying  that  they  had  best  have  the  wound 
cauterised  at  once.  Sir  James  was  profuse  in  apolo- 
gies and  Mistress  Betty,  much  vexed,  hurried  the  snarl- 
ing brute  into  the  library. 

"  This  is  out — outrageous,"  faltered  the  squire,  in 
the  midst  of  his  pain ;  "  such  a  savage  brute,  I  wonder 
why  you  don't  have  him  killed.  Sir  James." 

"  Cruel  man,  to  abuse  poor  Caesar  so,"  said  Mistress 
Betty,  with  a  flash  of  the  eye. 

"  Zounds,  madam,"  replied  the  squire,  but  he  went  no 
further.     His  inherent  courtesy  to  ladies,  and  the  ap- 


68  ANDE     TREMBATH 

pcarance  of  Captain  Tom  with  the  hot  poker,  caused 
him  to  beat  a  hasty  retreat  to  the  table. 

With  a  smile  of  anguish  he  sat  down,  saying,  "  It  is 
nothing,  madam,  nothing,  Captain  Tom — I  do  assure 
you — no  need  of  cauterising — the  pain  has  already 
gone." 

Captain  Tom  very  reluctantly  replaced  the  poker, 
and  soon  they  were  all  seated,  chatting  merrily,  as  if 
nothing  had  happened.  The  squire,  occasionally  slip- 
ping his  hand  beneath  the  table  and  giving  the  smart- 
ing limb  a  soothing  rub,  talked  as  cheerfully  as  the  rest. 

"  And  you  won't  stand  for  re-election,"  said  the  squire 
to  Sir  James. 

"  Not  at  present ;  the  times  are  not  yet  ripe  for  re- 
form and  we  must  have  a  more  extended  suffrage  be- 
fore I  can  stand  with  success,"  said  Sir  James,  helping 
himself  to  another  lump  of  sugar  and  dropping  it  care- 
fully into  his  cup  with  the  air  of  a  sage. 

"  Fudge,"  said  Captain  Tom,  "  the  country  doesn't 
need  extended  suffrage.  Why,  brother  James,  if  your 
ideas  go  into  effect  the  landed  estates  will  be  ruined. 
We  have  seen  enough  of  those  things  over  there  in 
Prance.  The  people  got  extended  suffrage  and  the  king 
and  the  gentlemen  got  the  suffering.  Bah !  "  said  Cap- 
tain Tom  in  some  disdain,  "  the  landed  estates  must  rule, 
pass  out  of  existence,  or  give  place  to  a  Napoleon,"  and 
the  Captain  thumped  the  table  emphatically  with  the 
sugar  tongs. 

"  What  a  sage  student  of  history  you  are,  Captain 
Tom,  and  yet  there  are  some  things  yet  tQ  learnt    The 


TEA-TABLE     AND     POLITICS      59 

revolution  in  France  was  not  caused  by  their  obtaining 
the  suffrage,  but  by  the  retention  of  suffrage  from  them 
until  they  arose  in  revolt.  A  fortunate  thing  is  it  for 
the  government  that  yields  to  the  demands  of  the  people 
and  is  not  compelled  to  yield.  When  the  proper  form 
of  government  is  in  vogue,  then  there  will  be  no  occa- 
sion for  the  people  demanding  or  of  the  government 
yielding.  Government  should  stand  halfway  between 
the  highest  pinnacle  and  the  broadest  base  of  the 
populace." 

"Why,  Sir  James,  you  surprise  me!"  ejaculated  the 
squire ;  "  you  may  as  well  turn  American  with  those 
ideas !  Tut — tut !  "  followed  by  a  disapproving  shake 
of  the  head. 

"  A  vast  discrepancy  between  Americanism  and  my 
ideal.  Government  in  America  stands  upon  a  broad 
base,  but  is  not  as  truly  representative  as  our  own  gov- 
ernment will  become  in  a  few  years." 

"  You  speak  in  riddles.  Sir  James,"  replied  the 
squire. 

*'  Well,  let  me  explain.  Strictly  speaking,  there  Is  no 
real  representative  government.  Even  In  America, 
women,  negroes  and  Indians  are  not  represented ;  neither 
among  those  that  are  represented  is  there  any  fair  pro- 
portion of  representation.  Jefferson,  their  great  sage, 
wrote  the  most  foolish  thing  imaginable  when  he  said 
*  all  men  are  created  free  and  equal.'  It  is  evident  that 
the  opposite  is  the  case.  All  men  are  different,  different 
in  physical  strength,  mental  power,  culture,  attain- 
ments,   !Even  in  infanthood  they  are  different.    Equal- 


60  ANDE     TREMBATH 

ity  is  nowhere  on  earth,  neither  in  the  vegetable  nor  ani- 
mal kingdom.  It  is  a  manifest  injustice  then  to  alter 
the  plan  of  the  Creator." 

"  Aye,  aye,  now  you  are  coming  around  to  our  opin- 
ion," said  Captain  Tom. 

"  Not  at  all.  Our  present  conservative  system  is 
wrong  and  unsafe.  Government  is  resting  on  the  high- 
est pinnacle  of  the  populace,  from  which  position  it 
may  easily  be  deposed." 

"  Pshaw,"  said  the  squire,  "  I  can't  understand  you ; 
I  thought  you  said  our  government  was  more  repre- 
sentative than  the  American." 

"  No.  I  said  it  will  be  in  a  few  years.  In  America 
the  Church  is  not  represented,  neither  are  the  institu- 
tions of  learning — although  they  ought  to  have  some 
special  representation  as  well  as  the  States.  Now  mark 
me  well.  In  a  few  years,  a  decade  at  the  most,  the  fran- 
chise will  be  extended  to  the  humblest  shop  owner,  house 
owner  and  tenant,  and  only  the  criminals  and  the  utterly 
uneducated  will  have  no  voice  in  the  government.  Then 
we  will  have  a  more  representative  government  and  a 
more  stable  one  than  our  American  cousins.  More  rep- 
resentative, because  colleges,  universities,  the  clergy, 
and  large  and  small  property  owners  will  have  their 
respective  portion  of  power;  more  safe  because  the 
roughest  and  lowest  element  of  society  will  not  have 
a  controlling  and  dominating  influence.  How  is  it  now, 
however.''  The  landed  proprietors  and  men  of  influence 
pack  our  House  of  Commons  as  they  please.  Everyone 
knows  of  Old  Sarum — that  it  hasn't  a  single  inhabitant, 


TEA-TABLE     AND    POLITICS      61 

and  yet  it  sends  a  member  to  the  Commons,  while  Man- 
chester, Leeds  and  Birmingham  have  no  voice  whatever 
in  the  affairs  of  the  nation.  We  must  have  an  extended 
suffrage.  The  people  want  it,"  and  Sir  James  silenced 
his  batteries. 

"  Well,  so  far  as  I  can  see,"  said  Captain  Tom,  dog- 
gedly returning  to  the  charge  "  the  people  are  not  de- 
manding anything.  Our  people  are  comfortable  and 
happy.  Corn  has  arisen  in  price  and  our  farmers  are 
growing  rich." 

*'  Aye,"  said  the  squire,  "  so  far  as  I  can  see,  things 
are  pretty  prosperous.  Corn  has  risen  to  fifty  shillings 
per  quarter." 

"  Ah,"  said  Sir  James,  contemptuously,  "  what  bene- 
fit is  it  for  Cousin  Jack  in  Cornwall  to  have  a  full  stom- 
ach, and  Tom  in  York  and  Devon  to  have  an  empty  one  ? 
Fine  national  prosperity,  that.  Squire,  you  are  inter- 
ested in  your  own  section,  Captain  Tom  reads  nothing 
but  war  news,  and  so  both  of  you  are  blind  to  the  signs 
of  the  times.  The  memory  of  the  Blanketeers  is  still 
before  the  public  and  the  pulse  of  the  middle  classes 
is  mounting  higher  and  higher.  What  signify  the  riots 
of  last  year  and  the  affair  of  Peterloo?  " 

"  A  set  of  rebellious  knaves,  that  need  the  hand  of 
the  Iron  Duke  to  teach  them  their  manners,"  replied 
Captain  Tom,  who  was  indignant  to  be  accused  of  ignor- 
ance on  national  affairs.  "  A  set  of  rebellious  knaves, 
but  where  do  you  find  gentlemen  marching  side  by  side 
in  a  cause  with  such  a  rabble." 

"  William  Cobbet,  the  journalist,"  rejoined  Sir  James. 


62  ANDE     TREMBATH 

"  Aye,  a  ploughman,"  sniffed  Captain  Tom,  in  some 
disdain. 

"  Aye,  and  more  than  a  ploughman,"  added  young 
Master  Richard.  "  There's  Sir  Francis  Burdette,  Lord 
Brougham,  the  great  Canning,  Lord  John  Russell, 
Grenville,  and  Earl  Grey — and  Canning  and  Grey  were 
Etonians."  The  last  part  was  uttered  with  a  little  tri- 
umph in  the  tone. 

"  Ah,  the  young  cock  is  beginning  to  crow,"  said 
Captain  Tom,  who  knew  not  what  else  to  reply. 

Sir  James  looked  pleased  at  this  heavy  broadside  from 
his  son  and  then  again  took  up  the  reform  cudgel,  say- 
ing :  "  Very  true,  and  even  the  younger  Pitt  over  twenty 
years  ago  agitated  the  subject." 

Here  the  squire  thought  it  time  to  assist  his  friend, 
Captain  Tom,  and  also  show  that  he  was  not  destitute 
of  knowledge  on  national  affairs. 

"  Tut,  tut,  that  is  a  bad  argument ;  Pitt  abandoned 
his  position  as  untenable,  and " 

"  Aye,  he  knew  he  couldn't  hold  the  position  and 
retreated  as  a  sensible  general  should,"  interrupted 
Tom. 

"  Because  of  the  excesses  of  the  French  revolution," 
replied  Sir  James. 

The  spirited  debate  went  on  with  varying  success  to 
either  party.  Mistress  Betty  participating,  sometimes 
on  one  side,  and  at  times  on  the  other,  always  sympa- 
thising with  the  weaker  party,  as  women  generally  do. 
Toward  the  close.  Captain  Tom  and  the  squire  being 
hopelessly   put   to   rout   by   the   combined   wisdom   of 


TEA-TABLE     AND     POLITICS      63 

Etonian  and  parliamentarian,  she  faithfully  adhered 
to  the  former  side,  until  even  Captain  Tom  was  forced 
to  admit  that,  though  a  woman  was  of  no  service  in  a 
battle,  yet  they  made  pretty  fair  tongue-soldiers. 

"  Well,"  said  the  squire,  as  he  was  preparing  to  go, 
"  your  remarks.  Sir  James,  have  convinced  me  of  one 
thing,  and  that  is  your  sincere  disinterestedness  in  self 
and  your  love  for  old  England  and  her  welfare.  You 
are  a  statesman,  sir,  and  we  shall  soon  see  if  we  can't 
place  you  in  Parliament;  aye,  Tory  or  Liberal, — 
what  matter — so  long  as  the  man  is  honest  and  capable." 

Now  this  was  exactly  what  Sir  James  had  ex- 
pected, and  he  shook  hands  cordially. 

"  Hold  on,  squire,  we  must  have  James  there  as  a 
Tory.  I  don't  believe  he  is  as  much  a  Liberal  at  heart 
as  he  pretends.  Don't  surrender  the  standard,  squire," 
said  Captain  Tom. 

A  servant  was  holding  in  readiness  the  squire's  cob, 
and  assisted  him  to  mount.  Raising  his  hat,  gallantly, 
to  Mistress  Betty,  and  waving  an  adieu  to  the  others 
he  paced  briskly  down  the  drive  and  out  on  the  high- 
way. 

"  What  a  courteous  gentleman,  and  young,  though 
he  is  a  widower,"  murmured  Mistress  Betty.  "  Did  you 
notice  how,  out  of  respect  for  my  feelings  for  Caesar, 
he  didn't  utter  any  complaint." 

"  Fudge,"  said  Captain  Tom,  "  that  was  due  to  his 
brave  spirit  in  enduring  pain.  What  a  soldier  he 
would  make !  " 

"  Pshaw !  "  exclaimed  young  Master  Richard,  "  the 


64  ANDE    TREMBATH 

old  gentleman  thought  more  of  the  hot  poker  than  he 
did  of  courage  or  courtesy." 

"  It  was  courtesy,"  reaffirmed  Mistress  Betty. 

*'  It  was  courage,"  exclaimed  Tom. 

"  It  was  hot  poker,"  reiterated  the  Etonian  again 
and  again,  until  under  a  score  of  reproaches  from 
Mistress  Betty  and  Captain  Tom, — the  former  empha- 
sising the  courtesy,  the  latter  the  courage  of  the 
squire, — he  found  safety  in  speedy  retreat. 

Sir  James  said  nothing  until  after  Master  Richard's 
exit,  and  then  he  broached  the  squire's  desire  of  an 
alliance  between  the  families. 

"  It  seems  we'll  get  the  estates  of  the  Manor  in  our 
family  after  all,  and  by  a  much  more  honourable  method 
than  father  tried.  That  deed  always  did  make  me  half 
ashamed  of  our  name." 

*'  Captain  Tom,"  said  Sir  James,  with  a  little  of 
asperity  in  his  voice,  "  the  plan  that  exposed  a  traitor 
was  perfectly  honourable." 

"  I  have  always  had  my  doubts  whether  my  old  com- 
rade. Major  Tommy  Trembath,  was  a  traitor,  or  his 
father  either.  They  were  both  too  honest  to  be  guilty 
of  treason.  Why,  look  at  the  record  of  old  Captain 
Ande  at  Culloden  and  Prestonpans.  He  was  a  hero. 
There  he  stood  with  Gardner  at  Prestonpans,  fighting 
gallantly  until  stricken  down  with  overwhelming  num- 
bers, and  there  was  Major  Tommy  in  the  Peninsular 
campaigns.  Aye,  the  more  I  think  of  it  the  more  am  I 
inclined  to  disbelieve  the  report  of  their  treason, — but 
circumstances  were  against  them,"  and  the  old  soldier 


TEA-TABLE     AND     POLITICS      65 

sighed,  and  with  a  halting  step,  due  to  a  wound — a  relic 
of  the  Napoleonic  wars, — he  tramped  once  or  twice  up 
and  down  the  veranda.  When  he  ceased,  the  look  of 
sadness  was  gone  and  a  humorous  twinkle  was  in  his 
eye.  Around  his  weather-beaten  countenance  there 
was  the  faint  trace  of  a  smile  of  merriment. 

"  However,  it  is  a  good  plan, — this  marriage — and — 
if  Cousin  Betty  can  catch  the  squire  we'll  have  a  double 
claim  on  the  Manor." 

**  Why,  Captain  Tom,  how  absurd ! "  exclaimed  Mis- 
tress Betty,  blushing  confusedly. 

"  A  tell-tale  blush !  I'll  have  to  tell  my  old  friend, 
the  squire,  of  his  opportunities  to  capture  the  strong- 
hold of  ages,  that  has  remained  unconquered  for '* 

"  How  absurd ! "  exclaimed  Mistress  Betty,  in 
mingled  anger  and  confusion,  as  she  beat  a  hasty  retreat 
to  her  apartments. 


CHAPTER    Vin 

"  OFF    WITH    HIS    HEAD."  * 

It  was  still  twilight  when  the  squire  reached  the 
Manor.  Hastily  giving  the  cob  into  the  hand  of  Sloan, 
he  hurried  into  the  hall  and  seated  himself  by  a  large 
window,  where  was  stationed  a  large  oaken  table  lit- 
tered with  a  motley  array  of  books  and  papers.  This 
was  the  squire's  position  when  any  petty  case  was 
brought  before  him.  Whether  the  books  were  kept  for 
show  or  use  no  one  knew.  The  only  time  the  squire  was 
known  to  look  at  them  was  during  a  trial,  and  this  he 
did  with  the  air  of  a  Lord  Chief  Justice,  which  air 
had  a  very  perceptible  effect  upon  the  trembling 
culprit. 

If  the  truth  were  told,  the  squire  had  a  more  intimate 
knowledge  of  fishing,  hunting,  farm  and  mine  manage- 
ment, the  origin  of  ancient  village  plays  and  customs, 
than  about  law.  Law  always  was  a  perplexing  study 
to  him.  But  as  a  compensation  for  his  lack  in  this 
respect,  he  more  than  made  it  up  in  the  learned  dignity 
of  his  demeanour. 

There  were  approaching  steps  heard  on  the  veranda, 

and  then  the  opening  of  a  door,  and  in  a  moment  more 

Stephen  Blunt  and  Ande  Trembath  stood  before  him. 

*"King  Richard  III." 

66 


"OFF    WITH     HIS     HEAD"  67 

The  steward  took  the  chair  that  he  was  accustomed  to 
occupy,  ushered  to  such  position  by  a  wave  of  the 
squire's  hand,  and  sharpened  his  quill  pen  preparatory 
to  writing.  Ande,  neither  Invited  to  sit  down  nor  stand, 
remained  near  at  hand.  His  mother  In  her  fond  delight, 
thinking  that  he  was  to  be  rewarded  for  his  morning 
heroism,  had  determined  that  he  should  be  dressed  In  a 
manner  suitable  for  the  occasion.  He  presented  a  very 
creditable  appearance  in  his  snow-white  trowsers,  neck- 
erchief, and  neat  blue  jacket.  His  feelings  were  not  as 
pleasant  as  his  garments.  Since  he  was  evidently  going 
to  be  rewarded  for  his  services  In  saving  the  life  of 
Mistress  Alice,  he  felt  exceedingly  out  of  place.  He 
rested  his  weight  on  one  foot,  fidgeted  with  the  other, 
and  fumbled  his  cap  in  a  nervous  manner.  He  grew 
restless  under  the  steady  eye  of  the  master  of  Trem- 
bath  Manor,  and  his  restlessness  Increased  the  suspi- 
cions in  the  mind  of  the  latter. 

"  Master  Trembath." 

The  lad  felt  relieved  that  the  silence  was  at  length 
broken. 

"  Master  Trembath,  you  were  nigh  the  estate  of 
late.?  " 

"  Yes — s,  sir.  I  frequently  go  through  the  Manor 
woods,  sir." 

"  Note  that  down.  Master  Blunt." 

A  bewildered  look  passed  over  the  lad's  face. 

**  You  were  nigh  the  estate  last  evening,  and  will  you 
now  tell  us  what  you  were  doing  in  that  place  at  that 
time?  " 


68  ANDE     TREMBATH 

Ande  grew  more  amazed  and  confused;  amazed  be- 
cause he  knew  not  what  the  squire  was  trying  to  ascer- 
tain, confused  because  he  had  been  there  and  even  in 
the  gardens,  but  for  a  purpose  he  did  not  wish  to 
divulge.  A  wave  of  crimson  swept  over  his  counte- 
nance, rivalling  the  sanguine  hue  of  his  locks. 

"  Take  notice  of  his  confusion,  Master  Blunt,"  and 
then  in  a  stem  voice  to  the  lad,  "  You  may  as  well  out 
with  it,  we  know  all  the  facts  of  the  affair." 

Ande  tried  to  answer,  but  his  tongue  clave  to  the  roof 
of  his  mouth.  His  heart  seemed  to  sink  lower  and 
lower  in  his  chest. 

"  Sir,  sir,— I— I " 

"  You  were  in  the  gardens  last  evening,"  thundered 
the  squire,  his  wrath  getting  the  better  of  him.  "  You 
were  in  the  gardens,  were  you  not.''  Answer  on  your 
honour  ?  " 

**  I  was,"  falteringly. 

"  And  for  what  purpose?  " 

"  That  I  cannot  tell." 

"And  why  not.?" 

The  youth  was  silent.  He  had  the  appearance  of  a 
culprit,  and  felt  wretched  and  miserable.  The  squire 
continued  to  question  and  cross-question,  but  of  no  avail, 
and  at  length,  growing  nettled  and  peevish,  he  said,  "  I 
will  state  the  case  plainly  to  you.  Master  Trembath. 
You  were  in  the  gardens  last  evening,  last  Wednesday 
night  and  last  Monday  night.  On  Monday  night  you 
drained  the  fish-pond  and  stole  the  best  fish ;  on  Wednes- 
day you  ruined  the  shrubbery  beds;  last  evening  you 


"OFF     WITH     HIS     HEAD"  69 

took  a  stone  from  the  hedge  and  killed  my  faithful  mas- 
tiff, Borlase.  What  answer  do  you  make  to  these  accu- 
sations? Make  a  clean  breast  of  it  and  it  will  be  better 
for  you,  my  lad." 

The  accusation,  thus  plainly  stated,  had  a  directly 
opposite  effect  upon  the  crestfallen  lad.  All  his  dif- 
fidence and  confusion  fell  away  from  him  like  a  garment. 
He  flung  up  his  head  like  a  young  lion  cub,  his  blue  eyes 
scintillated,  and  his  red  locks  shook  like  the  mane  of  a 
savage  beast  under  rising  passion.  Blunt  was  alarmed 
and  the  squire  was  awed. 

"  What  have  I  to  say  to  these  accusations  ?  I  say 
they  are  lies !  They  are  false !  I  was  not  here  on  Mon- 
day or  Wednesday.  I  never  stole  your  fish  or  drained 
the  pond,  or  trampled  the  shrubbery,  or  killed  the  dog. 
Who  accuses  me?  Who,  I  say.?  "  The  lad  advanced 
to  the  table,  boldly,  all  his  confusion  gone,  and  the  wild 
soldier  blood  of  his  ancestors  coursing  like  molten  fire 
through  his  veins.  "  Why  am  I  brought  here  in  the 
home  of  my  fathers  to  be  insulted.''  Have  not  you. 
Squire  Vivian,  and  the  Lanyans,  done  enough  evil  to  our 
family  but  that  you  must  charge  me  with  being  a  thief, 
and " 

"  Silence !  "  thundered  the  squire,  who  had  been  stirred 
up  by  the  lad's  charge  of  injustice.  Ande  stood  silent, 
with  heaving  breast.  The  squire  mastered  himself  before 
he  continued. 

"  Your  charge  against  me  is  not  to  the  point.  If  you 
do  not  know,  I  will  tell  you  that  this  estate  was  bought 
from  the  government  by  services  rendered,  which  had  no 


70  ANDE     TREMBATH 

connection  with  your  family.  Your  family  affair, 
neither  my  father  nor  myself  had  anything  to  do  with ; 
that  is  between  the  Lanyans  and  yours." 

Ande  Trembath  had  heard  for  the  first  time  that  the 
Vivians  had  had  no  hand  in  the  confiscation  of  the 
Manor,  and  there  was  a  revulsion  of  feeling  within  him. 
The  squire  nor  his  family,  then,  were  enemies  of  his. 
He  felt,  notwithstanding  the  accusation  against  him,  a 
better  feeling,  and  even  a  little  gladness  within  his 
heart.     Why,  he  did  not  know. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  your  honour.  I  had  never  heard 
it  put  that  way." 

"  That  is  neither  here  nor  there,"  said  the  squire, 
sternly,  "  and  has  no  connection  with  the  case.  You 
were  seen  nigh  the  grounds.  You  confess  to  being  on 
the  grounds  a  short  time  before  last  evening's  outrage, 
yet  you  say  you  are  innocent  of  the  charge." 

"  I  am  innocent." 

*'  Well,  why  were  you  on  the  grounds  ?" 

Again  the  lad  flushed  painfully  and  was  silent. 

*'  Now,"  said  the  squire,  "  since  there  is  no  direct  evi- 
dence, but  only  circumstantial,  I  shall  dismiss  you  with 
a  reprimand,  and  a  caution  to  be  careful  in  the  future 
and  amend  your  ways,  or  Newgate  will  have  you  yet, 
and  " — here  the  squire  pushed  his  countenance  into  a 
large  law-book,  as  if  consulting  reference — "  and  as  to 
punishment,  I  will  let  you  off  lightly.  Master  Blunt, 
call  Sloan." 

The  steward  dropped  his  writing  and  left  the  hall, 
returning  soon  with  the  stout,  old  hostler. 


"OFF     WITH     HIS     HEAD"  71 

"  George,  take  Master  Trembath  out  and  put  him  in 
the  stocks  for  one  hour." 

The  old  hostler  opened  his  mouth  slightly  in  amaze- 
ment, as  if  to  say  something,  but  the  frown  on  his 
master's  brow  checked  him.  Without  a  word,  George 
Sloan  and  Stephen  Blunt  took  the  dazed  lad  out  of  the 
hall,  down  the  garden  avenue,  and  out  through  the  gates 
to  the  very  scene  of  his  morning  exploit,  where  was  sit- 
uated the  village  stocks.  Resistance  was  out  of  the 
question,  and  so  he  submitted,  as  if  his  spirit  was 
crushed. 

"  I  am  sorry  for  'ee,  my  lad,"  said  old  George,  "  but 
us  has  to  hobey  borders.  To  think  that  the  grandson 
of  old  squire  shud  be  shut  in  th'  stocks,"  and  old  George 
shook  his  head,  for  he  felt  the  disgrace  as  keenly  as  the 
lad. 

Stephen  Blunt,  who  was  not  a  native  of  the  section, 
but  had  come  in  with  the  squire's  father  from  the  East, 
said  nothing.  The  Trembaths  were  nothing  to  him, 
having  never  known  them  intimately.  But  old  George 
Sloan,  Ned  Pengilly  and  others  native  to  the  soil,  who 
had  served  with  their  fathers  under  the  Trembaths,  took 
great  umbrage  at  the  shabby  treatment  of  the  "  young 
squire." 

Ande  thought  of  the  misery  of  the  disgrace;  he,  the 
best  scholar  in  the  parish  school,  condemned  and  pun- 
ished as  a  common  thief.  He  thought  of  his  father  and 
his  grandfather.  They  were  of  the  bravest  gentry  in 
Cornwall.  None  could  show  a  better  record  in  the  annals 
of  the  county.     They  had  taken   their  part  in   every 


72  ANDE     TREMBATH 

prominent  movement  in  the  nation.  The  last  of  the  line, 
branded  as  a  thief,  and,  like  a  common  vagrant,  impris- 
oned in  the  stocks !  He  thought  of  his  mother  and  her 
pride  in  him.  He  gave  an  impatient  wrench  to  free  his 
imprisoned  ankles,  but  the  framework  was  too  heavy  to 
be  opened  in  his  position.  He  thought  of  the  parson's 
sermon  of  the  previous  Sabbath.  Yes,  he  was  like 
Joseph.  The  iron  was  entering  his  soul.  He  gave 
vent  to  his  pent  up  feelings  in  tears. 


CHAPTER  IX 


THE   VILLAGE   STOCKS 


"  'ALLO  !     What  'as  us  'ere?  " 

It  was  a  coarse  voice,  half  boy's  and  half  man's. 

Ande  looked  up  and  perceived,  coming  through  the 
gloom,  a  long-legged,  stout  lad,  about  three  years  older 
than  himself.  He  had  just  emerged  from  the  Manor 
woods  and  was  engaged  in  what  he  thought  a  manly 
occupation,  smoking  a  short  pipe — or  Cornish  bob.  The 
prisoner  did  not  recognise  him  at  first,  for  the  twilight 
had  begun  to  darken  into  night,  but  as  the  newcomer 
advanced  he  saw  the  most  unwelcome  sight  of  his  bit- 
terest school  enemy, — Bully  Bob  Sloan. 

The  recognition  was  almost  simultaneous  and  the  new- 
comer allowed  his  freckled  face  to  relax  into  a  grin  of 
delight. 

"  'Alio,  can't  'ee  speak.?  What  has  tha  done,  boy, 
to  git  in  they  wooden  leggins?  " 

"  The  squire  did  it.  Bob,  but  I  'adn't  done  anything. 
Squire  said  I  'ad  drained  the  fish-pond,  but  I  didn't. 
Now,  let  me  out  of  here,  do.  Bob." 

This  was  said  in  a  propitiating  tone,  for,  thought 
the  lad,  Bob  might  help  him.  But  he  had  not  estimated 
Bob  aright. 

"  Um,"  with  a  sage  air  and  a  shake  of  the  head, 

73 


74  ANDE     TREMBATH 

"  can't  go  against  the  squire's  borders ;  and  then  I  'alf 
suspect  'ee'rt  guilty,  my  lad,  for  I  seed  'ee  myself  and 
told  squire,  or  rather  caused  'e  to  hear  it,  that  I  had 
seed  'ee  a-lurking  nigh  the  grounds.  Ah,  my  lad,  think 
what  a  fall  ah  be  for  'ee,  the  best  scholard  in  the  school, 
— a  criminal,  a-sitting  in  the  stocks ;  and  by  and  by  'ee 
will  be  hung  for  more  thieving  and  willainry.  What  a 
karacter !  What  a  disgrace !  "  and  Bob  shook  his  head, 
in  mock  sadness.  "  And  when  I  tell  the  master  and  the 
lads  at  school,  'cause  I  got  to  tell  them  to  save  they  from 
associating  with  a  thief,  'ow  shocked  they  will  feel.  I 
expect,  too,  I  'ad  better  clear  out  myself,  as  my  reperta- 
tion  might  be  a-hinjured  a-talking  'ere  with  a  criminal." 

"  Don't  lad  me,"  said  Ande,  in  some  wrath,  "  you're 
no  more  of  a  man  than  I  am,  and  as  for  reputation, 
you've  none  to  spare." 

"  Softly,  softly,  little  lad ;  'ow  pretty  'e  looks, 
a-dressed  in  'is  Sunday  clothes,  a-sitting  in  the  stocks, 
and  as  I  do  live,  the  little  lad  'as  been  a-crying.  Aren't 
'ee  af eared  'ee'll  spoil  your  pretty  new  jacket.''  " 

Bob  advanced  a  step  or  two,  and  placing  the  pipe 
again  in  his  mouth  at  a  dangerous  angle,  and  grinning 
with  Satanic  pleasure,  shoved  his  freckled  countenance 
almost  into  Ande's  face. 

Now  the  stocks  was  an  instrument  of  confinement  in 
which  the  ankles  were  held  securely,  while  the  arms  and 
hands  were  free.  Bob  had  evidently  forgotten  the  latter 
fact,  but  was  made  aware  of  it  by  a  stinging  left-hander, 
that  sent  the  pipe  flying  and  Bob  likewise  into  the  dust. 

"  Now,  damme,  for  a  traitor's  cub,  I'll  eat  'ee  up," 


THE     VILLAGE     STOCKS  75 

exclaimed  Bob  in  his  wrath,  as  he  arose  from  the  dust, 
with  bloody  lip  and  vengeful  eye.  And  he  doubtlessly 
would  have  made  some  attempt  to  carry  out  his  dire  ven- 
geance had  not  the  sound  of  approaching  footsteps 
and  a  cheery  whistling  in  the  distance  been  heard. 
Dreading  some  encounter  with  the  Hall  people,  and 
with  a  threat  of  vengeance  at  some  future  time,  he  made 
off  for  the  village. 

The  whistling  came  nearer  and  nearer.  A  tall,  dark 
figure  emerged  from  the  gloom,  walking  with  a  quick, 
jaunty  step. 

*'  What  ho,  my  Bob  Cuffins,  scragged  in  wooden  leg- 
gins!  "  The  white  trousers  and  blue  jacket  caught  his 
eye.  "  Well,  a  gentry  cove."  Dropping  all  dialect, 
his  language  became  more  respectful. 

"  And  what  hast  done,  lad,  to  be  trussed  up  like  this .'"' 

Ande  looked  at  the  stranger,  doubtingly.  He  was 
clad  in  a  long  rough  coat,  the  skirts  of  which  were 
slightly  torn.  His  countenance  was  dark,  but  with  a 
healthy  bloom  on  it. 

"  Come,  my  lad,  I  look  rather  unprepossessing  and 
rough,  but  mayhap  I  am  better  than  I  appear." 

Ande,  reassured,  told  his  story  briefly. 

**  And  you're  Squire  Trembath's  grandson,  and  you 
were  accused  of  the  mischief  at  the  Manor  ?  "  said  the 
fellow,  and  then  softly  whistled  to  himself.  "  I  think  I 
had  better  let  you  out  for  two  reasons.  First,  because 
you  couldn't  have  done  the  things  said,  since  one  of  my 
partners  did  that.  I  don't  mind  telling  you,  as  you 
can't  prove  your  innocence  otherwise,  and  as  long  as 


76  ANDE     TREMBATH 

you  don't  tell  the  squire  before  a  day  or  so,  it  won't  hurt 
us.  Then,  in  the  second  place,  I  like  to  pay  my  debts 
to  friends.  If  you  ever  see  your  father,  tell  him  that 
Midnight  Jack  returned  his  favour  of  over  sixteen  years 
ago." 

With  a  quick  movement,  the  tall  gipsy  chief  leaned 
down,  wrenched  open  the  clasp  of  the  stocks,  and  the 
imprisoned  lad  was  free.  He  was  gone  even  before  the 
lad  could  thank  him. 

Burning  with  indignation  at  his  disgrace,  Ande 
hastened  home  with  flying  feet.  His  mother  had  already 
retired.  In  anguish  of  soul,  he  quietly  stole  up  the 
little  attic  stairs  to  retire,  but  not  to  sleep. 


CHAPTER  X 

REPARATION 

Some  days  elapsed  before  Ande  went  near  the  village 
or  the  Manor.  With  a  boyish  burst  of  confidence,  he 
related  the  whole  affair  to  his  mother,  who  was  not  only 
shocked,  but  highly  indignant  at  the  treatment  accorded 
her  "  laddie."  The  lad  refused  to  attend  school  and 
lost  some  of  his  old  buoyant  spirit.  In  these  days,  he 
spent  most  of  his  time  working  around  the  home  place, 
meeting  frequently  Tom  Glaze,  in  the  furze  croft,  and 
profiting  much  by  his  training.  Tom  had  heard  of 
Ande's  shameful  treatment,  and  had  given  him  much 
advice,  that  seemed  phenomenal,  coming  from  such  a 
pugilistic  character. 

"  See  'ere,  my  lad,  doan't  'ee  go  a-moping  around, 
looking  as  ghastly  as  a  death's  head  on  a  mopstlck. 
Thee  might  as  well  knaw  there's  no  use  a-fighting  sar- 
cumstances  that  way.  The  squire  will  discover  his  mis- 
take some  day,  and  will  maake  all  right.  When  the  lads 
tease  'ee  a  bit  about  the  stocks,  doan't  'ee  take  any 
offence.     Doan't  'ee  fight  o'er  little  things." 

"  Aye,  but  the  world  treats  a  man  pretty  hard  once 
when  he  is  down,  and  what's  a  fellow  to  do.?  " 

"  Why,  above  all  things,  doan't  'ee  be  a  great  chuckle- 
head,  but  have  some  judgment,"  said  Tom,  at  which 

7T 


78  ANDE     TREMBATH 

Ande  flushed  angrily.  "  Now  doan't  'ee  take  no  offence. 
What  I  means  is  this.  Did  'ee  ever  see  a  kicking 
donkey?  Treat  un  kindly  and  'e  won't  kick.  Smile 
and  duck  your  'ead  to  the  world  and  say,  *  What  cheer,' 
or  '  'Ow  do  'ee  do,'  and  the  world  will  smile  and  bow 
or  duck  back  and  say,  *  Pretty  well,  thank  'ee,'  or  *  Brave, 
thank  'ee.'  Frown,  and  give  the  world  the  cold  shoulder, 
and  you  gets  the  same.  They  say  the  Golden  Rule  is 
'  Do  unto  others  as  'ee  would  be  done  by,'  but  the  prac- 
tical rule  is  '  Others  do  to  'ee  as  'ee  do  by  they.'  " 

"  Well,  Master  Glaze,  that  doesn't  'old  good  in  my 
case.  Here  I  did  good  to  Squire  Vivian  and  received 
evil  in  return." 

"  Exceptions  prove  the  rule.  Anyhow,  try  my 
hadvice." 

Ande  did  try  Tom's  advice,  and  was  gratified  to  see 
that,  with  the  exception  of  Bully  Bob  Sloan,  all  the  vil- 
lage lads  improved  in  tl\eir  conduct  toward  him.  The 
rescue  of  Mistress  Alice  was  soon  noised  abroad,  and  he 
was  considered  almost  in  the  light  of  a  hero  by  the 
juvenile  element. 

One  evening,  as  the  lad  was  returning  from  the  furze 
croft,  he  noticed  a  chaise  and  pony  at  his  mother's  door. 
It  was  the  chaise  of  Mistress  Alice,  who  had,  since  the 
affair  with  Queeny,  betaken  herself  to  the  pony  and 
chaise  when  desiring  an  airing.  His  mother  had 
received  her  with  a  certain  amount  of  cold  dignity  which 
her  feelings  would  scarcely  allow  her  to  conceal. 

There  was  a  variety  of  emotions  in  the  lad's  breast 
as  he  approached.     There  was  anger  at  Squire  Vivian's 


REPARATION  79 

indignity  to  him,  a  feeling  of  shame  at  the  report  of  his 
depredations,  and  an  emotion  that  had  lived  in  his  soul 
for  quite  a  time,  but  which  he  had  never  fully  analysed. 
From  early  childhood  he  had  remembered  the  squire's 
daughter.  He  remembered,  with  all  a  youth's  tenacity, 
how  he  was  led  to  church  by  the  tall,  soldierly  man,  his 
father,  and  how  rapidly  he  had  to  move  his  infantile  feet 
to  keep  up  with  the  soldier's  tread.  In  the  family  pew 
he  would  sometimes  turn  his  head  to  a  nice  dark-haired 
little  miss  of  a  few  summers'  age,  seated  in  Squire 
Vivian's  pew.  Once  she  had  shyly  and  demurely 
returned  his  look,  then  quickly  turned  away,  as  if  dis- 
pleased. He  had  asked  his  father  afterward  whether 
he  didn't  think  the  squire's  girl  a  "  pretty  little  maid," 
and  he  remembered  the  hearty  roar  of  laughter  with 
which  his  father  responded.  Since  he  had  been  attend- 
ing the  parish  school,  he  had  not  seen  her  much.  Indeed, 
he  had  never  become  acquainted  with  her  before  the  affair 
of  the  runaway.  He  had  always  admired  those  dark  elfin 
locks,  and  in  church  he  had  thought  if  he  had  one  of 
them  how  he  would  cherish  it,  and  then  he  had  flushed 
crimson  at  what  he  thought  almost  a  profanation.  He 
had  always  admired  her,  but  the  feeling  he  had  had  for 
quite  a  time  past  could  neither  be  admiration  nor  friend- 
ship. He  had  not  analysed  it.  It  was  this  strange 
sentiment  that  had  led  him  frequently  into  the  vicinity 
of  the  Manor,  before  the  regrettable  affair  of  the  stocks. 
His  appearance  there  on  the  evening  of  the  killing  of 
the  mastiff  was  an  incident  of  that  kind.  He  had  con- 
ceived a  passion  for  flowers,  and  especially  for  the  flow- 


80  ANDE     TREMBATH 

ers  of  a  garden  plot,  watered  and  attended  by  the  hand 
of  Mistress  Alice.  Could  he  secure  one  of  those  blos- 
soms? Now,  Ande  was  the  perfect  soul  of  honour,  but 
he  had  had  a  hard  fight  with  himself  to  keep  from  appro- 
priating what  was  not  his  own.  The  slightness  of  the 
offence,  the  intensity  of  his  feelings,  the  heritage  of  his 
ancestors,  all  urged  the  harmlessness  of  the  deed.  He 
might  have  secured  one  by  request,  but  he  would  have 
died  before  exposing  his  feelings  to  ridicule. 

Ande  stood  near  the  threshold  with  a  tumult  of  feel- 
ings within  him,  that  made  him  look  more  like  an  awk- 
ward, country  lout  than  the  grandson  of  a  squire. 

**  Master  Trembath,  I  have  come  to  beg  your  pardon 
for  the  hasty  act  of  father." 

Ande  could  not  help  noticing  the  slight  colouring  of 
her  features,  enhanced  by  the  wealth  of  dark  locks  over- 
head. There  was  a  sincerity  and  earnestness  in  her  tone 
that  made  her  a  hundred  times  more  attractive  than  he 
had  ever  seen  her  before.  He  mastered  himself  with  a 
great  effort. 

"  The  apology  comes  from  the  wrong  person.  Mistress 
Vivian,  and  the  deed  being  done,  cannot  be  undone." 

"  It  was  a  cruel  injustice,"  said  Mrs.  Trembath,  with 
some  little  warmth  in  her  tone,  "  and  I  wondered  how  the 
squire  could  have  done  it,  seeing  how  Jpravely  my  laddie 
acted  in  the  runaway." 

The  young  girl  flushed  at  the  charge  of  injustice. 

"  Indeed,  father  was  not  aware  of  Master  Trembath's 
brave  conduct;  he  was  away  all  afternoon,  and  I  was 
not  aware  of  the  judgment  on  Master  Trembath  until 


REPARATION  81 

the  following  day.  I  was  very  much  vexed  over  the 
whole  affair,  and  when  I  told  father,  he,  too,  was 
chagrined,  yet  he  said  the  circumstances  were  so  much 
against  Master  Trembath  that  he  didn't  see  how  he 
could  amend  matters.  I  want  you  to  accept  these  flow- 
ers, Master  Trembath,  as  a  token  of  my  high  esteem, 
and  I  trust  that  you  will  neither  consider  my  father  nor 
myself  in  any  hard  light." 

She  placed  the  large  bouquet  of  flowers  on  the  settle 
and  turned  to  depart.  Mrs.  Trembath  placed  her  hand 
on  the  dark,  raven  locks  of  the  squire's  daughter  as  she 
stood  on  the  portico  step. 

"  And  may  God's  blessing  attend  you.  Mistress  Vivian, 
for  your  kind  and  charitable  spirit,  and  may  your  father 
be  imbued  with  the  same !  " 

Ande  accompanied  her  to  the  pony  chaise.  His  right- 
eous indignation  against  the  squire  was  mitigated  by 
this  unexpected  visit  and  by  the  flowers.  He  had  coveted 
only  a  single  blossom;  here  was  a  gorgeous  bunch  from 
her  very  hand. 

They  made  a  pretty  picture,  standing  without  the 
gate,  in  the  rays  of  the  setting  sun.  The  pony  stood 
patiently  waiting  near  the  hedge,  occasionally  nibbling 
a  choice  bit  of  herbage  that  seemed  to  seek  safety  from 
his  investigating  jaws  in  the  rough  rock  crevices. 

"  I  thank  you  very  much ;  the  flowers  are  very  beau- 
tiful." 

"  And  you  will  not  think  hard  of  my  father." 

The  youth  was  silent  and  bit  his  lip;  then  avoiding 
the  question,  he  answered : 


82  ANDE     TREMBATH 

"  It  was  not  the  stocks,  but  the  accusation  and  the 
condemnation,  that  has  made  all  people  look  down  on 
me." 

"  Oh,  Master  Trembath " 

"  Call  me  Ande ;  it's  more  natural  to  me ;  you  were 
going  to  say " 

"  I  was  going  to  ask  whether  you  could  not  clear 
yourself  from  being  on  the  grounds  at  that  time." 

"  No.    I  was  there." 

**  After  your  having  saved  my  life.  I  shudder  to 
think  of  it " 

"  You  shudder  to  think  of  my  saving  your  life,"  said 
the  youth,  a  little  stiffly. 

"  Oh,  no.     How  you  misunderstand  me !  " 

**  You  mean  you  are  pleased,"  said  Ande,  brighten- 
ing. 

"  Stupid !  "  said  the  girl,  a  little  indignant.  "  Why 
don't  you  let  me  finish  my  sentence." 

Ande  was  abashed  at  this  rebuff. 

"  I  shuddered  at  the  accident  that  might  have  been, 
and  I  want  to  see  you  justified.  Now  if  you  could  tell 
me  why  you  were  there  I  could  inform  father,  and  he, 
being  the  soul  of  honour,  would  make  all  right." 

"  No,  I  cannot  tell  my  reason,"  said  the  youth,  flush- 
ing painfully. 

"  And  not  even  tell  me,  when  you  know  I  am  so  in- 
terested in  having  you  brdVight  out  from  under  this 
cloud." 

"  If  you  knew  you  would  not  tell  him  either,"  said 
the  youth,  doggedly. 


REPARATION  83 

She  gazed  at  him  quickly.  Somehow  in  her  young 
woman  soul  she  seemed  to  read  his  reason.  Yes,  in  a 
moment,  with  that  keen  intuition,  developed  earlier  in 
woman  than  in  man,  she  read  through  this  hesitation, 
this  confusion.     She  knew. 

"  I  can  tell  who  did  the  deed,  though,"  said  the  lad, 
for  he  thought  of  the  information  of  the  gipsy  chief, 
and  that  now  he  was  at  perfect  liberty  to  tell. 

"  Who  ?  "  asked  the  girl,  eagerly.  This  youth  that 
had  so  bravely  saved  her  life  should  be  justified. 

Ande  related  the  events  of  his  rescue  from  the  stocks 
and  the  tale  of  the  gypsy  chief.  The  girl  listened  with 
brightening  eye  and  kindling  cheeks. 

"  It  must  be  so,  for  how  could  you  have  gotten  forth 
from  the  stocks.?  No  one  would  have  dared  to  let  you 
out  but  a  person  like  that.  I  know  how  we  all  won- 
dered when  Stephen  Blunt  came  in  and  told  my  father 
that  the  stocks  were  empty.  But  why  did  you  not  tell 
this  before?  " 

"  Because  Midnight  Jack  told  me  it  would  not  hurt 
them  if  it  wasn't  told  for  a  day  or  so." 

"  I  shall  see  that  you  are  justified.  You  have  been 
shamefully  treated." 

The  squire's  daughter  mounted  into  the  pony  chaise, 
grasped  the  lines  with  her  slender,  gloved  hands,  and 
with  a  smile  was  gone. 

"  Poor  lad !  He  has  been  shamefully  treated  and  he 
shall  be  justified,"  she  thought  to  herself.  "  How 
foolish  I  was  not  to  see  before.  He  loves  me,"  she  said 
softly.    "  He  is  good  looking  and  tall  and  man-like  for 


84  ANDE     TREMBATH 

his  age."  Then  there  was  a  pause  in  her  soliloquy,  un- 
broken save  by  the  pony  hoofs.  Then  she  drew  her 
brows  down  with  a  slight  frown.  "  Pshaw !  '*  Then 
the  scowl  left  her  features  and  she  broke  into  a  slight, 
nervous  laugh.     "  Absurd !  " 

The  remainder  of  the  drive  was  spent  in  silence,  but 
there  was  heightened  colour  in  her  cheeks  and  a  soft, 
pellucid  light  in  her  eyes. 

Old  Sloan  took  the  pony  and  chaise  at  the  entrance 
of  the  great  house,  and  Mistress  Alice  tripped  up  the 
steps  and  into  the  hall.  The  old  squire  was  seated  by 
the  hall  fire,  meditating  apparently,  for  his  chin  was 
resting  on  his  band  and  he  had  his  eyes  fixed  upon  the 
flaming  coals.  His  daughter  bent  over  his  chair,  and 
lightly  kissed  his  forehead;  then  drawing  a  stool  near 
him  she  seated  herself,  leaning  her  head  against  him 
and  waiting  for  him  to  speak. 

But  the  old  squire  did  not  speak  for  a  time ;  he  placed 
his  big,  brown  hand  upon  his  daughter's  dark  locks,  and 
still  gazed  into  the  fire.  It  was  the  daughter  that  broke 
the  silence. 

*'  Father,  I  have  news  to  tell  you." 

"Well,  AUie.?" 

"  It  was  not  Master  Trembath  that  killed  Borlase, 
or  drained  the  pond ;  it  was  one  of  the  gipsies."  Then 
she  poured  forth  the  whole  story  of  Ande's  escape  from 
the  stocks,  while  the  old  squire  listened,  as  he  gazed 
into  the  fire.    When  she  had  finished  he  gazed  at  her. 

I  know  it,  Allie.     I  had  my  eyes  opened,  and  even 
saw  the  rogue,  this  afternoon,  at  Sir  James  Lanyan's. 


REPARATION  85 

Sir  James  had  him  up  for  some  offence  and  he  con- 
fessed all,  the  rogue." 

"And  about  Master  Trembath?  " 

"  Aye,  that's  what  troubles  me.  I  can't  see  what  I 
can  do  to  justify  him.  True,  I  can  exonerate  him,  but 
to  make  reparation  for  the  injustice  of  putting  the  lad 
into  the  stocks — I  can't  see  what  I  can  do.  The  lad  is 
better  than  I  thought,  if  he  does  have  treasonable 
blood." 

"  We  must  exonerate  him  by  announcing  it  in  the 
parish  school  and  at  the  church.  We  ought  to  reward 
him,  too,  for  stopping  the  runaway.  It  ought  not  to  be 
said  that  a  Vivian  received  a  favour  of  such  kind,  from 
any  one,  without  doing  something  in  return," 

"  Reparation  shall  be  made !  "  exclaimed  the  squire, 
emphatically.  Alice  had  touched  him  in  his  pride.  She 
had  also  touched  him  on  the  side  of  his  honesty  and 
uprightness. 

"  We  will  have  It  announced  in  the  parish  school  and 
church,  as  you  say;  the  whole  parish  knew  it  when  he 
was  placed  in  the  stocks,  and  the  whole  parish  shall 

know    of    it — that   he    is   not    guilty — that — ^that 

But  we  must  do  something  else.  That  will  be  only 
common  justice.     We  must  reward  the  lad, — ^but  how?  " 

The  eyes  of  Mistress  Alice  became  luminous ;  she  was 
winning  her  case.    With  deftness  she  proceeded. 

"  He  doesn't  like  to  attend  school,  so  Parson  Trant 
says,  and  I  was  thinking  how  nice  it  would  be  to  send 
him  to  the  Helston  Grammar  School.  Now,  father,  if 
you  could  make  the  offer  ?  " 


86  ANDE     TREMBATH 

The  squire  brightened.  He  had  found  a  way  out  of 
his  difficulties.  He  kissed  his  daughter  and  called  her 
a  wise,  little  prime  minister.  He  hastened  away  that 
very  evening  to  the  parson's  house,  and  the  old  rector 
was  delighted  to  be  the  means  of  Ande's  reinstatement 
in  popular  favour. 

After  the  departure  of  Mistress  Alice  from  the  Prim- 
rose cottage,  Ande  had  better  thoughts  of  the  squire 
and  his  people.  Somehow  or  other  he  felt  lighter  of 
heart,  but  his  mind  was  strangely  confused.  During 
the  evening  hymn  instead  of  the  sweet  strains  of  Ken's 
Evening  Hymn  he  was  guilty  of  fearful,  musical 
blunders. 

As  he  lay  awake  under  the  eaves  that  night,  his 
imagination  still  carried  him  back  to  the  garden-gate 
scene.  Yes,  she  stood  before  him  just  as  attractive  in 
memory  as  she  did  then.  In  impatience  he  tried  to 
banish  her  face. 

"  Fudge,"  said  he  "  I'll  get  Glaze  to  give  me  a 
skevern  in  the  chacks  that  will  knock  some  sense  into 
my  addled  head." 

He  dreamed  that  night  that  he  was  under  the  walls 
of  the  great  house,  near  Mistress  Alice's  window,  and 
that  he  was  playing  on  the  harp  of  his  fathers.  Once 
he  thought  he  saw  her  face — then  it  changed  to  the 
features  of  the  squire — and,  wonder  to  relate,  a  smile 
upon  his  rugged  features — then  over  the  squire's 
shoulders  appeared  the  sardonic  countenance  of  Sir 
James  Lanyan.  He  changed  the  strains  to  the  Hymn 
of  the  Lark,  and  Sir  James  paled  and  fled. 


CHAPTER  XI 

DEFEAT  OF  BULLY  BOB  SLOAN" 

"  I   am   the   Valiant   Cornishman 
Who    slew    the    giant    Cormoran." 

— Cor.  Ballad. 

*'ANDE,  my  lad,  I  have  been  thinking  about  you  and 
your  unfortunate  experience,  and  have  been  pondering 
in  my  mind,  for  quite  a  time,  what  to  do.  Your  edu- 
cation, already  so  advanced,  must  not  be  slighted. 
You  do  not  feel  like  continuing  school  here?  " 

It  was  the  parson  who  was  speaking.  Parson  Trant 
with  Ande  was  seated  in  the  study  room  of  the  rectory, 
a  pretty,  half  stone,  half  brick  edifice,  nearly  concealed 
from  the  public  road  by  masses  of  ivy  and  foliage.  It 
was  built  for  the  express  use  of  the  parson,  and,  accord- 
ing to  his  desires,  was  as  retiring  from  public  notice  as 
a  mother  bird  ensconced  in  her  nest  amidst  enveloping 
leaves. 

"  No,  Parson  Trant,  I  think  not." 

*'  I  thought  so ;  but  your  education  shall  not  be  neg- 
lected. Squire  Vivian  has  come  to  me  and  realising 
how  bravely  you  acted  in  the  runaway,  and  how  un- 
justly you  were  treated,  proposed  that  you  should  go  to 
the  Helston  Grammar  School," 

Ande's  countenance  flushed.  The  parson  perceived 
it  and  continued. 

87 


8d  ANDE     TREMBATH 

"  Now,  Ande,  lad,  the  ill  feeling  between  the  squire 
and  you  ought  to  cease.  He  is  good-hearted  in  the 
main.  He  has  made  ample  reparation  for  the  offence 
of  the  stocks  and  he  wishes  to  show  his  good  will  and 
thankfulness  for  the  rescue  of  his  daughter.  It  is  a 
creditable  action  of  his,  and  you  are  not  receiving  any 
favour,  but  a  just  due.  I  have  talked  to  your  mother  of 
the  matter  and  she  is  willing  for  you  to  go.  I  have 
written  to  the  head  and  he  will  make  room  for  you. 
You  must  not  allow  any  hard  feeling  on  your  part  to 
mar  the  happiness  of  your  mother  and  the  hopes  of 
your  best  friends.  Besides,  it  is  not  courteous  to  refuse 
to  meet  the  overtures  of  friendship  from  one  whom  you 
have  always  esteemed  an  enemy,  especially  when  that 
person  meets  you  more  than  halfway.  Your  father 
would  not  have  scorned  to  do  so,  and  you  desire  to  be  as 
much  of  a  gentleman  as  your  father  was." 

The  youth  was  won  over  by  the  earnest  manner  and 
words  of  his  friend,  the  parson..  There  was  quite  a 
conversation  as  to  the  time  of  entrance,  the  necessary 
preparations,  and  the  conclusion  of  it  all  was  that  Ande 
should  go  after  the  Christmas  holidays. 

His  mind  delighted  with  the  prospect  of  attending 
the  Grammar  School,  and  with  airy  dreams  of  what 
that  existence  would  be,  he  left  the  rectory  and  wended 
his  way  with  light  steps  down  the  walk  and  out  on  the 
public  road.  The  sun  seemed  to  smile  brighter  upon 
him,  the  birds  to  warble  sweeter,  and  all  nature  seemed 
to  be  tinged  with  the  bright  hues  of  his  day  dreams  of 
the  future.     There  were  voices  in  the  distance,  boyish 


Yes,  give  three  hoots  for  the  red-'eaded  Deane  and  all  his 
traitor  hancestors  " 


DEFEAT    OF    BULLY    BOB     SLOAN    89 

voices,  and  with  laugh  and  rude  joke,  a  crowd  of  parish 
school  lads,  bubbling  with  spirits,  surged  around  a  neck 
of  woods.  The  master  had  given  them  a  half -holiday 
and  they  were  bound  to  the  Giant's  Quoit,  a  huge  rock 
said  to  have  been  used  as  a  plaything  by  the  ancient 
Cyclops  of  Cornwall. 

"  'Alio,  come  along,  Ande,  will  'ee .'' "  exclaimed 
Tommy  Puckinharn. 

"  No,  can't  go,"  replied  Ande,  shaking  his  head.  He 
must  go  home  and  talk  with  his  mother  over  the  great 
prospects  of  attending  the  Grammar  School. 

"  Naw, — 'e  must  ask  'is  mawther  fust,"  cried  Bully 
Bob,  with  a  great  coarse  laugh.  The  laugh  and  the 
reference  to  his  mother  stung  Ande,  but  he  pretended 
not  to  notice. 

"  'E's  getting  up  too  far  now  in  society  to  'sociate 
with  we;  'e  was  calling  on  squire  some  time  ago,  and 
squire  give  'im  the  seat  of  honour — fact,"  said  Bob 
with  a  wink  and  a  grin  that  seemed  to  bring  forth  addi- 
tional grins  upon  the  countenances  of  several  of  his 
satellites. 

Ande  stood  for  a  moment,  irresolute,  then  resumed 
his  way. 

"  Les  give  three  hoots  for  the  red-'eaded  Deane  and 
all  his  traitor  hancestors." 

The  last  was  too  much  for  the  impatient  spirit  of  the 
lad  to  brook.  Turning  about  and  with  a  calm,  steady 
voice,  he  cast  his  gauntlet  at  Bob  in  the  shape  of  a  few 
words  in  the  dialect,  equivalent  to  a  challenge  to  battle 
the  world  over. 


90  ANDE     TREMBATH 

"  Bob,  thee'rt  a  great,  ghastly  coward,  and  thee  knaw 
it." 

A  wave  of  redness  swept  over  Bob's  face,  completely 
drowning  the  freckles  with  which  it  was  freely  sprinkled. 

"  'Ow's  that !  I  'ave  a  good  mind  to  scat  thee  in  the 
chacks  for  thy  himpudence,  m'lad."  And  then  in  a  tan- 
tilising  manner,  as  Ande  approached,  he  continued, 
"  Thee  art  a  traitor,  for  thy  faather  and  grandf aather 
werd  traitors.  Everybody  knaws  they  were  traitors 
and  cowards  hout  in  blooming  hold  America." 

The  words  had  hardly  emanated  from  his  lips  when — 
smack! — went  Ande's  hand  on  the  mouth  that  had 
spoken  this  base  libel.  A  thrill  of  expectancy  passed 
over  all  the  crowd,  a  thrill  of  amazement,  awe,  vivid 
interest. 

"  Damme,"  said  Bob,  as  he  spat  his  blood  and  froth 
from  his  lips,  "  I'll  make  'ee  think  Saint  Michael's  Cor- 
moran  had  'ee  when  I  get  done  weth  'ee.  Wilt  fight  or 
must  I  knack  'ee  down?" 

There  was  no  occasion  to  ask,  for  Ande,  boiling  with 
rage,  was  coming  at  him  with  a  rush,  when  a  deep  voice 
from  the  side  of  the  hedge  cried,  "  'Old  hard,  there 
a-bit." 

Tom  Glaze  vaulted  the  neighbouring  hedge  and  strode 
forward  into  their  midst. 

"  Now,  I  observed  the  quarrel  and  I  suppose  you  'ave 
got  to  fight  un  out,  but  'ee  must  follow  the  regular  Cor- 
nish rules.  Thee,  Ande,  get  thy  second,  and  thee,  Bob, 
get  thine,  wost  tha,  and  I'll  be  timekeeper  and  referee." 

Glaze  led  the  way  over  the  hedge  and  the  crowd  of  lads 


DEFEAT    OF    BULLY     BOB    SLOAN   91 

followed,  leaping  the  barrier  like  a  flock  of  sheep.  A 
circle  was  formed  in  true  British  style.  Bob  chose  one 
of  his  satellites,  and  Ande  chose  Puckinham  to  act  as 
second.  The  crowd  looked  on  with  intense  interest. 
Was  not  this  to  be  the  greatest  fight  they  had  ever 
seen  ?  Who  had  ever  dared  to  challenge  redoubtable  Bob 
before?  And  to  make  it  additionally  interesting,  Tom 
Glaze,  one  of  the  most  expert  wrestlers  and  boxers  of 
the  Duchy,  was  to  be  the  one  in  charge.  It  was  of  as 
much  moment  to  them  as  the  battle  of  Waterloo  to  their 
fathers. 

The  coats  of  the  contestants  were  cast  aside  and  their 
sleeves  were  deftly  rolled  up  by  the  seconds. 

"  One,  two,  three,"  counted  Glaze,  and  then  the  battle 
began. 

With  a  roar.  Bully  Bob  rushed  as  if  to  break  every 
bone  in  his  antagonist's  body,  and  truly  had  the  blow 
fallen  the  battle  would  have  been  a  short  one,  for  in 
age,  height  and  weight  Bob  had  the  advantage.  Now 
did  Ande  feel  grateful  for  the  training  in  the  furze 
croft.  Heretofore,  it  was  stand  up,  take  and  give,  but 
now,  to  Bob's  intense  amazement  and  disgust,  his  blow 
landed  on  empty  air,  and  as  he  swept  by,  carried  by  his 
momentum,  he  received  a  fierce  jab  in  the  ribs  that 
added  nothing  to  his  good  humour.  Observing,  after 
one  or  two  encounters  like  this,  that  he  had  no  ordinary 
battle  to  fight,  lie  began  to  be  more  cautious  and  his 
usual  confident,  sneering  face  assumed  a  doubtful  air, 
but  he  still  pressed  the  conflict.  With  his  sledge-ham- 
mer fists  he  shot  out  blows  that  would  have  felled  a  much 


9ft  ANDE     TREMBATH 

larger  opponent,  but  tliey  were  either  parried  or  fell 
on  air.     With  the  litheness  and  agility  of  a  leopard  his 

1  ^      • 

opponent  was  here,  there,  everywhere,  side-stepping 
and  putting  in  heavy  body  blows  that  made  Bob  gasp 
with  something  more  than  astonishment. 

But  Ande  was  growing  too  confident.  Pushing  his 
antagonist  in  turn,  he  sought  to  reach  Bob's  freckled 
countenance,  fell  short,  and,  to  use  his  own  expression, 
**  received  a  skevem  on  the  noase  and  eyes  that  made  un 
see  fire." 

A  yell  went  up  from  Bob's  satellites.  Bob  had  drawn 
first  blood,  and  he  now  pressed  the  dazed  Ande,  shower- 
ing on  him  a  number  of  blows  that  he  with  difficulty 
avoided. 

The  mute  silence  of  the  crowd  was  broken  by  Bob's 
success.     Whooping,  yelling,  they  urged  Bob  on. 

**  Give  it  to  the  hugly  Deane !  Knack  down  the 
traitor !     Hooray !     Braavo-o-o !" 

Only  Puckinharn  shouted  encouragement  to  his  prin- 
cipal. 

"  'It  un  in  the  ribs,  Ande !  Thee  cussent  reach  'is 
faace.     Braavo !     Braavo,  now  he's  gurking."  ^ 

The  latter  was  said  in  response  to  a  crashing  left  jab 
in  the  ribs  that  made  Bob  lower  his  guard  spasmodically. 
**At  un,  Ande;  his  faace  now  is  like  that  of  a  roasted 
herring  on  a  gridiron.  Up  and  at  un,  lad!"  Puck- 
inham's  shouts  were  swelled  by  the  voices  of  one  or  two 
others  who  had  been  silent  before. 

Bob  now  sought  to  end  the  battle  in  close  quarters, 
1  Gurking — weakening. 


DEFEAT    OF    BULLY    BOB    SLOAN   93 

and  rights  and  lefts  were  freely  exchanged.  Ande 
wheeled  and  his  friends  were  silent  in  dread  for  a  mo- 
ment, but  only  for  a  moment.  Bob  staggered  back  with 
a  heavy  elbow  jolt  in  the  small  ribs,  but  not  before  he 
had  given  his  opponent  a  blow  that  sent  him  to  the 
ground,  dazed.  Ande's  pivot  blow  had  left  a  bad  open- 
ing. Bob  seeing  his  opponent  down,  was  rushing  in 
to  finish  the  contest  on  the  ground,  apparently,  no  rules 
having  as  yet  been  devised  against  it,  when  Tom  Glaze 
shoved  himself  between. 

"  Round's  hup." 

The  boys  began  to  cheer  for  Bob,  thinking  that  the 
battle  was  over  and  that  Bob  was  a  victor,  but  that 
worthy  silenced  them  with  a  growl. 

"  Shut  up,  will  'ee ;  'e  edent  licked  yet." 

His  crestfallen  adherents  were  silent.  In  the  mean- 
time some  of  the  crowd  had  brought  water  to  bathe  and 
refresh  the  youthful  gladiators.  An  old  horse  trough 
was  used  by  Bob  and  a  battered  field  kibbel  ^  by  Ande. 
The  first  round  was  manifestly  Bob's.  He  had  drawn 
first  blood  and  had  knocked  his  antagonist  down.  His 
face  was  untouched,  while  Ande's  was  a  bit  drawn ;  but 
to  judge  by  the  many  soft  rubs  that  Bob  gave  his  ribs, 
he  had  not  come  out  of  the  first  round  unscathed. 

As  Ande  rested  on  Puckinharn's  knee,  that  worthy 
gave  him  sundry  pieces  of  advice. 

"  Thee  must  keep  on  'itting  'im  in  the  ribs ;  'e's  taller 
than  'ee,  and  thee  cussent  reach  'is  faace;  'e's  sore  and 
weak  there  now;  'e's  gurking,  I  tell'ee." 
» Kibbel— bucket. 


94  ANDE     TREMBATH 

**  Time !  "  called  Tom  Glaze,  and  to  the  fray  again 
they  rushed. 

Bully  Bob,  flattered  by  his  adherents,  had  regained 
his  confidence.  He  would  finish  the  battle  in  close  quar- 
ters, and  rushed  again  and  again,  but  his  wily  antag- 
onist was  as  agile  as  an  eel.  Bob  paused  for  breath  and 
glared. 

"  At  un.  Bob !     Eat  un  up !  " 

"  I  will,"  said  Bob,  "  as  soon  as  I  catch  un.'* 

The  fighting  continued,  Ande  playing  his  old 
tactics — hitting  in  the  ribs  and  getting  away.  Puckin- 
ham  grinned  in  delight.  Round  two  was  up  and  honours 
were  equally  divided.     Bob  was  filled  with  wrath. 

"  See  'ere,"  he  said  to  Tom  Glaze,  "  I  want  to  knaw  if 
that  is  fair,  for  'e  to  go  running  and  dodging  around 
like  that?  Us  aren't  playing  fox  and  hounds.  Why 
doan't  'e  stand  up  and  take  and  give  like  a  man?" 

He  was  reassured  by  Glaze,  and  Glaze's  word  was 
law. 

"  Thee  didn't  think  it  was  unfair  to  crack  to  Ande 
when  he  was  down,  did  'ee, — thee  great  bucca,"  ex- 
claimed Puckinharn. 

A  bucca  was  the  highest  title  of  reproach  that  Puck- 
inharn had  in  his  vocabulary. 

"  Silence,"  said  Glaze ;  "  the  rules  are  that  all  dodg- 
ing is  allowed." 

"  And  wrastling,  too,"  said  Bob. 

"  Aye,  and  wrastling,  too,"  affirmed  Glaze  with  a 
peculiar  smile. 

And  so  the  rounds  went  on  until  the  seventh,  when 


DEFEAT    OF    BULLY    BOB    SLOAN   95 

Bob  being  unwary,  Ande  seized  his  left  guard,  gave  his 
ankle  a  queer,  Cornish  side  kick,  and  sent  in  a  blow  on 
Bob's  jaw  that  toppled  the  redoubtable  bully  over  on 
his  back. 

"  Hooray !  Braavo !  "  exclaimed  Puckinham,  swing- 
ing his  cap  up  in  the  air  in  his  delight. 

Bob  was  up  the  next  instant  and  began  to  fight  in 
a  cautious,  crouching  attitude.  His  ribs,  black  and 
blue,  he  sought  to  shield  by  drawing  his  body  back  and 
shoving  his  head  and  arms  forward.  There  was  a  better 
chance,  too,  for  a  wrestle,  he  thought.  The  small  boys 
held  their  breath.  This  was  the  attitude  Bob  always 
assumed  when  meeting  hard  opponents.  Rumour  had 
credited  him  with  throwing  a  sailor  in  this  manner. 
The  bully  was  at  bay  and  would  fight  hard.  Now,  Ande, 
you  have  need  of  all  your  skill,  so  hardly  earned  in  the 
practice  bouts  with  Tom  Glaze.  There  was  no  further 
chance  at  Bob's  ribs,  and  his  head  seemed  perfectly 
guarded.  They  circled  warily  around  each  other  seek- 
ing for  an  opening.  Then,  like  a  flash  came  Ande's 
chance,  the  opportunity  that  he  would  not  let  slip.  "  If 
'ee  ever  get  that  chance  and  take  it,  it  will  put  thy  op- 
ponent down  and  hout  sure,"  Glaze  had  told  him  time 
and  time  again,  in  their  practice  bouts. 

Bob  made  a  slight  pass  with  his  left.  The  next  in- 
stant his  wrist  was  grasped  in  an  iron  grip.  Up  over 
his  neck  Ande  raised  Bob's  arm,  then  bending  his  back 
he  grasped  with  his  other  hand  his  opponent's  right  knee, 
and  putting  forth  all  his  strength.  Bob  went  up  in  the 
air  as  if  hoisted  with  a  derrick. 


96  ANDE     TREMBATH 

**A  clinch !  a  clinch ! "  shouted  some,  and  it  was  a 
clinch  in  which  one  did  all  the  clinching. 

Bob  struggled  manfully,  but  the  grip  that  had  stopped 
the  squire's  runaway  mare  could  not  be  unloosened. 
Up,  up,  up,  went  Bob,  and  then  with  a  heave  the  form  of 
the  bully,  like  a  comet,  went  over  his  opponent's  head 
and  over  the  heads  of  the  close-pressing  ring-siders,  his 
foot  kicking  off  the  cap  of  one  of  the  lads  in  his  invol- 
untary flight.  There  was  a  thud  and  a  cry.  The 
battle  was  ended.  Bully  Bob  had  a  broken  collar-bone, 
and  his  prestige  was  forever  terminated. 

Trembath  was  the  hero  of  the  hour.  Tom  Glaze  was 
jubilant  and  slapped  the  victor  on  the  back. 

"  Thee  did  what  I  telled  thee,  and  I  couldn't  do  un 
better  myself.  Thee'lt  be  champion  of  the  county  yet. 
Thee  make  off  home  now,  for  thy  mother  will  be  looking 
for  'ee,  and  I'll  see  to  the  tother  chap." 

Ande  started  homeward.  The  boys  still  remained 
around  the  fallen  bully,  or  in  little  knots  by  themselves 
discussed  the  great  battle.  Then  a  short  distance  away 
were  seen  the  approaching  figures  of  the  squire  and  par- 
son, and  the  spectators  melted  away  like  magic,  until 
only  Tom  Glaze  remained. 

"Ah,  Tom,  a  bad  day's  work,  inciting  the  young  to 
fight,"  said  Parson  Trant,  shaking  his  head  disapprov- 
ingly. 

"Well,  lads  will  fight  and  sometimes  it  does  them 
good,"  said  the  squire,  who  loved  the  old  British  game 
of  boxing,  and  felt  like  supporting  Glaze,  who  was  a 
favourite  of  his. 


DEFEAT    OF    BULLY    BOB    SLOAN   97 

"A  bad  thing,  stirring  up  the  worst  passions,"  replied 
the  parson. 

**  I  doan't  knaw  about  that,"  sturdily  replied  Glaze, 
encouraged  by  the  squire's  words.  "  This  was  a  thing 
that  'ad  to  come  off,  and  seeing  as  'ow  the  little  one  'as 
given  the  big  un  a  much  needed  dressing  down, — I  think 
it  proper,  sir,"  and  Glaze  touched  his  cap. 

*'  Another  case  of  the  valrant  Cornishman  and  the 
giant  Cormoran,  eh.  Glaze?  "  said  the  squire,  laugh- 
ingly. 

*'  Aye,  sir,  'tez  so,"  said  Glaze,  as  they  passed  on. 


CHAPTER  XII 

CHRISTMAS  AND   CHRISTMAS  PLAY 

"Come,  bring  with  a  noise. 
My  merrie,  merrie  boys. 
The  Christmas  block  to  the  firing; 
While  my  good  dame,  she. 
Bids  ye  all  be  free, 
And  drink  to  your  heart's  desiring." 

— Herrick. 

There  was  bustle  and  activity  in  the  parish.  There 
was  a  chill  in  the  air,  the  presage  of  the  rapidly  ap- 
proaching Christmas  time.  House  cleaning  and  baking 
occupied  the  time  of  the  busy  housewives.  The  small 
boy's  eyes  glistened  as  he  watched  the  huge  cakes,  loaded 
with  citron,  currants,  and  coloured  as  yellow  as  gold  with 
saffron,  emerging  from  the  oven  and  consigned,  still 
steaming  hot,  to  some  secure  place  of  retention.  Then 
the  bag-puddings — a  most  indigestible  mass — yet  sweet 
and  toothsome,  the  pastries,  pies,  and  fuggans,  passed 
in  regular  order  through  the  hands  of  the  cook. 

There  is  activity  among  the  male  population  as  well 
as  among  the  housewives.  Small  lads  run  hither  and 
thither  crying  shrilly,  "  Pennorths  of  Christmas,"  and 
exhibiting  evergreen,  holly  and  mistletoe  for  sale.  The 
farmers  are  preparing  bands  for  saluting  the  apple 
trees.     Youngsters  are  planning  schemes  for  watching 

98 


CHRISTMAS  99 

the  oxen  kneel.  Singers  are  practising,  night  after 
night,  the  Christmas  carols  or  "  curls."  Youths  are 
preparing  for  the  Christmas  play  of  St.  George  and 
the  Turk. 

Ande  had  been  to  Helston  with  the  donkey  and  cart 
to  purchase  needed  supplies,  and  in  returning  along  the 
"  Red  Revver  "  road  was  allowing  the  animal  to  take  his 
own  gait. 

"  'Alio,  Ande,  we  want  'ee  for  St.  George  in  the 
Christmas  play,"  said  a  voice  from  the  hedge.  It  was 
Puckinharn. 

"  How  art  tha.  Tommy !  Up  with  'ee  and  'ave  a 
ride.  Who's  in  the  company.?  "  said  Ande,  all  in  one 
breath. 

"  We  doant  knaw  as  yet,  but  thee  must  be  St.  George, 
that's  settled,"  said  Tommy,  as  he  clambered  up  into 
the  cart. 

"  Well,  if  I'm  to  be  St.  George,  we  had  better  begin 
soon.  Suppose  we  meet  in  our  furze  croft  and  get  down 
to  business  this  afternoon." 

"  The  very  place,"  assented  Tommy. 

The  donkey  was  hurried  on,  while  both  lads  planned 
and  talked.  That  afternoon  saw  a  crowd  of  the  village 
boys  assembled  in  the  rough  highland,  "  the  croft," 
and  after  much  debate  the  parts  were  assigned  and 
practising  begun. 

Christmas  eve  came  at  length.  The  moon  shone 
serenely  from  between  broken  clouds.  The  air  was 
clear,  crisp  and  cold,  and  made  great  coats  a  neces- 
sity to  comfort.     The  trees  had  last  their  leafy  robe, 


100  ANDE     TREMBATH 

and  now  stood  shivering  or  shaking  in  envy  of  their 
evergreen  brethren,  while  all  the  green  hedges  had  aged 
into  withered  brown.  There  was  a  flash  of  light  from 
the  parish  church  tower,  and  then  the  single  pencil  of 
light  was  increased  by  another  and  another,  until  every 
window  of  the  old  structure  was  ablaze  with  illumination 
in  honour  of  the  coming  birthday  of  the  Nazarene. 
Light  after  light  appeared  in  cottage  of  peasant  and 
mansion  of  gentleman,  as  if  an  answer  to  the  summons 
of  the  old  church  to  do  honour  to  Him  who  is  the  "  light 
of  the  world."  Then  on  the  night  air  came  the  song  of 
choirs  and  carol  of  singers,  mingled  with  the  strains  of 
musical  instruments.  From  cottage  and  hall  sounded 
the  merry  noise  of  revelry,  the  hearty  laugh  and  gen- 
eral good  cheer. 

Forth  through  the  night,  bubbling  with  good  spirit 
and  anticipated  merriment,  stalked  the  St.  George  Band 
of  Christmas  players,  adorned  in  such  a  brave  manner 
as  even  to  make  the  redoubtable  British  champion,  had  he 
lived  to  see  it,  green  with  envy.  What  variable  gar- 
ments !  What  coats  adorned  with  tinsel,  red,  and  gold, 
and  striped!  What  shields  of  brilliant  paper  or  tin, 
spears  of  warlike  hickory,  and  swords — ^not  near  so 
sharp  as  the  Saracen  blade,  but  still  as  sharp  as  wood 
could  be  whittled  with  a  jack-knife;  and  caps  of  tall, 
many-hued  tinsel;  had  the  real  St.  George  worn  one 
of  them  the  terrible,  ripping,  snorting,  steam-breathing 
dragon  would  have  bellowed  in  anguish,  and  have  fallen 
down  in  a  dead  faint.  But  they  were  good  enough  for 
the  occasion  and  their  very  form  was  sacred  by  ancestry. 


CHRISTMAS  101 

House  after  house  was  visited  and  the  fun  grew  fast 
and  furious.  At  very  few  places  were  they  not  given 
a  ready  entrance  and  hearty  welcome. 

"  Now  les  to  the  squire's !  "  exclaimed  one,  and  the 
proposition  was  hailed  with  delight.  The  distance  was 
not  far,  and  the  time  was  shortened  by  conversation  and 
by  a  little  warlike  practice  between  St.  George  and  his 
Mohammendan  enemy,  the  Turk,  in  which  practice  the 
Turk  received  a  terrific,  broad  sword  slash,  that  made 
him  pucker  up  his  face  like  the  picture  of  the  Saracen's 
head  at  the  village  inn.  The  Turk  was  not  gifted  in 
the  Turkish  language,  but  made  up  for  it  by  giving 
vent  in  broad  Cornish  dialect  to  his  feelings. 

"  Damme,  Ande,  ef  thee'rt  going  to  cut  my  nose  off 
my  faace  and  scat  my  brains  out,  I'll  be  a  Turk  no 
longer,"  and  Tommy  Puckinham  flung  down  his  sword 
in  disgust,  and  stalked  on  ahead  of  the  company.  With 
one  hand  nursing  his  injured  olfactory  and  the  other 
thrust  in  his  breast,  and  meekly  followed  by  his  fellows, 
he  looked  like  Napoleon  and  army  on  the  retreat  from 
Moscow.  Some  one  picked  up  the  Turk's  weapon  and 
immediately  a  discussion  arose.  No  one  but  a  knight 
must  carry  a  sword  in  the  company.  Sword  bearing 
was  the  special  prerogative  of  a  knight  and  "  tother 
chaps  must  carry  spears."  The  sword  bearer  then 
pleaded  to  be  made  a  knight,  and  if  Tommy  wouldn't 
be  the  Turk  to  install  him  in  his  place.  But  that  was 
what  Tommy  didn't  want.  He  had  no  desire  of  being 
turned  out  of  the  second  place  in  the  company, 
even  if  he  did  throw  down  his  weapon,  and  so  he  returned 


102  ANDE     TREMBATH 

and  indignantly  protested.  When  a  soldier  loses  his 
sword  and  another  finds  it,  he  ought  to  return  it,  was 
the  Turk's  argument. 

St.  George  settled  the  affair  by  raising  the  sword 
finder  to  the  rank  of  a  squire.  The  bravery  of  the  Turk 
in  their  late  encounter,  and  his  heroic  courage  on  other 
occasions,  merited  that  he  should  have  an  armour  bearer, 
a  squire,  to  be  his  constant  attendant.  The  sword 
finder  was  elated  and,  somehow  or  other,  the  pain  in  the 
Turk's  nose  was  healed  by  this  new  dignity  that  his 
valour  had  added  to  his  reputation.  There  was  no  more 
practice  in  the  warlike  arts,  for  the  Manor  gates  were 
passed  and  the  great  house  was  near. 

The  numerous  chimney  pots  sent  up  various  curling 
clouds  of  smoke  that  glistened  palely  in  the  moonlight. 
The  diamond-shaped  window  panes  gleamed  and  scin- 
tillated with  the  illumination  within,  except  where  a 
dark  shadow  of  holly  wreath  obstructed  the  light.  The 
broad  verandas  were  festooned  with  ropes  of  evergreen. 
Up  the  broad  steps  strode  the  players  and,  after  a  few 
mute  looks  and  a  little  whispered  colloquy,  the  herald 
lifted  the  rapper  and  sent  a  peal  through  the  old  build- 
ing that  would  have  been  certainly  heard  at  any  other 
time  but  Christmas  eve. 

Within  there  was  the  noise  of  frolick.  The  servants 
were  haw-hawing  in  the  kitchen  department  over  some 
joke  or  amusement,  and  the  occasional  thump,  thump  of 
feet  in  measured  time  indicated  a  dance,  perhaps  be- 
tween the  cook  and  hostler.  The  squire's  hall  was  re- 
plete with  good  cheer.     Wreaths  of  evergreen  inter- 


CHRISTMAS  103 

twined  with  sprigs  of  holly  were  hung  at  regular  spaces 
on  the  waxed,  panelled  walls.  At  one  end  was  a  large 
life-sized  painting  of  George  the  Second.  Squire 
Vivian  had  a  great  reverence  for  the  king  that  had 
secured  to  his  family  the  estate  of  Trembath.  His 
father  had  served  King  George  faithfully  in  the  east, 
and  there  had  ever  been  a  strong  friendship  between  the 
Vivians  and  the  Hapsburgs.  At  the  other  end  of  the 
hall  hung  the  picture  of  the  squire's  father  and, 
although  in  warlike  garb,  yet  had  a  friendly  smile  on 
his  features  as  if  in  greeting  to  His  Majesty,  the  King, 
on  the  opposite  wall.  In  the  centre  of  the  side  wall  was 
the  great  open  fireplace,  the  grate  having  been  removed 
to  make  room  for  the  great  yule  block  that  was 
kindled  every  Christmas  eve  with  almost  religious  cere- 
monies, and  near  its  warm  glow  was  the  form  of  the 
squire,  seated  in  his  great  armchair.  He  looked  the 
very  impersonation  of  Father  Christmas,  minus  the 
beard.  Near  him  were  two  or  three  of  his  friends  from 
the  east,  men  of  his  own  age,  who  seemed  to  enjoy  his 
conversation  and  laughed  as  merrily  as  himself.  A 
whist  party  was  in  progress  on  the  other  side  of  the 
fireplace,  while  down  the  long  room,  here  and  there, 
were  scattered  various  groups  engaged  in  various  Christ- 
mas games.  The  hall  floor  was  not  carpeted,  for  the 
squire  scorned  such  modern  improvements  as  innova- 
tions and  desired  nothing  better  than  the  old-fashioned 
waxed  floors.  Neither  did  he  see  fit  to  remove  any  of 
the  emblems  of  his  father's  predecessors,  for  above  the 
flaming    firelog    stretched    the    high    oak    mantel,    and 


10^       ANDE  TREMBATH 

carved  in  relief  on  its  shiny  surface  was  the  figure  of  a 
Lyonnese  warrior  galloping  amidst  devouring  ocean 
waves. 

The  squire  was  just  chuckling  over  a  young  lady's 
mishap  in  getting  under  the  mistletoe  when  the  herald 
of  the  St.  George  company,  tired  of  raising  the  great 
knocker,  pushed  open  the  door  and  entered  the  hall. 
There  was  a  thump  on  the  floor  to  demand  attention, 
and  then  in  as  authoritative  voice  as  he  could  command 
came  the  heralding  of  the  brave  gallants  without. 

**  Room,  a — a — room,  brave  gallants,  room  I 
Within  this  court, 
I  do  resort 
To  show  some  sport 
And  pastime; 
Gentlemen  and  ladies,  in  the  Christmas  time." 

There  was  silence  in  the  hall  for  a  moment  and  then 
the  squire  spoke  out  with  a  cheery  welcome,  for  he 
heartily  appreciated  the  amusement. 

"  Bring  in  your  gallant  crew.  Ho,  there,  children, 
move  to  one  side  and  give  them  room  for  fair  play." 
This  latter  to  various  groups  of  merrymakers  in  the 
hall. 

The  whist  players  dropped  their  cards,  the  hall  occu- 
pants withdrew  to  either  side,  and  the  elderly  parties 
around  the  squire  ceased  their  conversation  to  give  full 
attention  to  the  antics  of  these  new  merrymakers. 

The  herald  bowed  to  the  squire  and  company  and 
waved  his  wand,  and  in  capered  a  queer,  uncouth  figure 
in  mask  and  flowing  wig  and  whiskers.     The  young 


CHRISTMAS  105 

children  burst  into  peals  of  laughter  at  his  grotesque 
movements,  and  he  had  to  uphold  his  authority  and  gain 
silence  for  himself  by  thumping  the  floor  vigorously 
with  his  tall  staff.  He  had  a  right  to  demand  attention, 
for  he  was  Father  Christmas ;  his  round,  cheery  face  pro- 
claimed it,  even  without  his  speech  which  he  proceeded 
to  make. 

"  Here  come  I,  old  Father  Christmas, 
Welcome  or  welcome  not, 
I  'ope  hold  Father  Christmas 
Will  never  be  forgot; 
I  bring  the  cold  of  winter  time. 
That  kisses  red  the  nose; 
I  bring  the  snow,  the  rain,  the  frost 
That  bites  and  stings  the  toes; 
But,  then,  I'm  welcome  anyway 
Because  I  am  the  seer 
That  brings  the  nuts,  and  cake,  and  pies 
Of  happy  Yuletide  cheer." 

Father  Christmas  executed  a  few  joyous  capers,  but 
was  interrupted  by  the  herald  who,  with  a  little  fear  on 
his  countenance,  stated: 

"  Father  Christmas,  thee  must  stand  aside  a  bit  for 
I  think  I  see  an  enemy  of  thine  and  of  our  good  Christ- 
mas cheer  a-coming." 

Father  Christmas  moved  aside  with  a  shake  of  his 
hoary  locks  and  muttered: 

"Ah,  'tez  the  Saracen,  I  fear, 
I  would  our  bold  St.  George  were  near." 

All  eyes  were  fastened  on  the  door  through  which  the 


106  ANDE     TREMBATH 

valorous  Turk,  in  his  green  turban,  was  entering,  his 
face  a  little  more  ferocious  by  the  wound  received  from 
St.  George's  sword  in  the  contest  on  the  public  road. 
The  Saracen  has  some  difficulty  in  expressing  himself 
in  good  English,  but  that  was  to  be  attributed  to  his 
Turkish  training.     Flourishing  his  sword  he  began: 

"  Bally,  bully  mally  can 
Hodak  'ee  St.  George  ann, 
Baresesh  tally  man, 
Abdul  caliph  Hassan ! " 

"Pray,  speak  in  English,  brave  Turk, 
Let's  'ear  what  mischiefs  in  thee  lurk." 

The  herald  had  spoken  in  response  to  his  heathen  jar- 
gon, and  the  Saracen  scowled  upon  him  hideously  and 
answered : 

"  'Tis  plain  'ee  cannot  understand 
The  language  of  the  Turkey  land 
And  so  I'll  tell  as  plain  I  can 
In  the  words  of  the  Englishman. 
Here  come  I,  a  Turkey  snipe, 
Come  from  the  Turkey  land  to  fight, 
And  if  St.  George  do  meet  me  here 
I'll  try  'is  courage  without  fear." 

The  Turk  stalked  around  in  brave  manner,  when  a 
new  arrival,  the  redoubtable  St.  George,  entered.  A 
cheer  went  up  from  the  younger  element  of  the  squire's 
visitors,  and  even  the  whist  players  clapped  their  hands, 
for  the  Turk  was  no  favourite,  and  did  they  not  love 
St.  George,  the  patron  saint  of  England.''     St.  George 


CHRISTMAS  107 

bows  to  the  spectators,  and  by  his  speech  does  not  appear 
very  modest  over  his  great  victories. 

"  Here  come  I,  that  St.  George, 
That  worthy  champion  bold. 
And  with  my  sword  and  spear 
I  won  three  crowns  of  gold. 
I  fought  the  dragon  old 
And  brought  him  to  the  slaughter. 
By  that  I  gained  fair  Sabra, 
The  king  of  Egypt's  daughter." 

The  Turkish  knight  drew  his  sword  and  with  a  war- 
like pass  at  St.  George,  hurled  his  defiance : 

"  St.  George,  I  pray,  be  not  too  bold. 
If  thy  blood  is  hot  I'll  soon  make  un  cold." 

The  squire  smiles,  for  there  is  a  strong  Cornish  accent 
in  the  Turk's  tone,  nothwithstanding  his  efforts  to  con- 
ceal it.  But  now  St.  George  also  has  drawn  his  sword 
and  with  the  threat, 

"  Thou,  Turkish  Knight,  I  pray,  forbear, 
I'll  make  thee  dread  my  sword  and  spear," 

the  contest  begins. 

The  servants  have  opened  the  door  leading  to  the 
kitchen  department  and  now  stand  crowding  in  the 
entrance.  Little  ones  that  had  been  taken  to  bed  by 
their  nurses  were  brought  down  to  see  the  fun.  Fair 
play  and  a  clear  field,  the  squire  had  said,  and  so  the 
centre  of  the  great  room  was  theirs.  And  how  they  did 
fight!      Surely   no  earthly  battle  was  like  it.      In  no 


108  ANDE     TREMBATH 

battle  was  so  much  blood  shed  and  so  many  hard  blows 
delivered,  at  least  so  thought  the  Turk  in  reference  to 
the  latter,  for  he  was  battered  from  head  to  foot  with 
side  blows  and  over  cuts,  jabs,  and  slashes,  until  he 
ardently  wished  for  the  time  to  come  when  he  must  fall 
down  dead. 

The  squire  and  the  others  applauded  when  a  good 
blow  was  given  or  one  neatly  parried.  The  Turk  at 
length  steadily  gave  way,  to  the  delight  of  the  little 
ones  among  the  spectators.  One  little  maid  in  her  ex- 
uberance of  joy  danced  up  and  down  clapping  her  hands 
and  saying,  "  The  old  Turk  is  going  to  be  whipped,  and 
I'm  glad."  At  length,  under  a  shower  of  blows,  the 
Turk  fell  to  the  ground  amid  the  plaudits  of  the  on- 
lookers. St.  George  bends  over  him  to  see  the  extent 
of  his  wounds,  and  the  Turk  whispers: 

"  Ande,  I  guess  I  'ad  better  stay  killed  this  time." 
But   St.   George   is  inexorable.      Standing  erect  he 
speaks : 

"  He  lives,  he  breathes,  he  speaks. 
Now  in  the  name  of  Elicompane 
Let  the  man  rise  and  fight  again." 

The  Turk  arises  on  one  knee  and  continues  the  con- 
flict, but  not  for  long,  as  he  is  again  stricken  down  and 
becomes  at  once  a  suppliant. 

"Oh,  pardon  me,  St.  George, 
Pardon  me  I  crave. 
Pardon  me  this  once. 
And  I  will  be  thy  slave," 


CHRISTMAS  109 

Bold  St.  George  had  no  idea  of  mercy  toward  tlie 
Turk,  and  so  he  spurs  him  once  more  to  the  conflict. 

"  I'll  never  pardon  a  Turkish  Knight, 
Therefore  arise  and  try  thy  might." 

Again  the  contest  raged,  the  Turk,  seeking  to  save 
himself  as  much  as  possible  from  the  onslaughts  of  St. 
George,  fights  with  a  good  bit  of  desperate  valour,  but 
down  he  goes  again.  St.  George  shakes  his  head  as  if 
it  were  all  over  and  then  cries : 

"  Is  there  a  doctor  to  be  found 
To  cure  a  deep  and  deadly  wound  ?  " 

Why  he  should  be  so  solicitous  for  the  welfare  of 
the  Turk  as  to  seek  a  doctor  can  hardly  be  told,  unless 
for  the  pleasure  of  fighting  with  him  again.  The 
doctor  is  not  long  in  appearing  from  the  hall  entrance. 
With  three-cornered  hat  perched  above  an  enormous  wig 
and  painted  face,  there  was  a  professional  air  about  him. 
With  a  leer  and  a  funny  grimace  at  the  crowd  he  began 
his  doggerel  speech. 

"  Oh,  yes,  there  is  a  doctor  to  be  found. 
The  best  old  doctor  in  the  town. 
On  my  back  I  carry  my  pack. 
Of  pills  both  white,  and  brown,  and  black." 

St.  George  stalked  toward  him  and  asked,  "  What  can 
you  cure  ?     Can  you  cure  this  man  ?  " 

"  Cure  ?    I  can  cure  the  palsy,  and  gout. 
If  the  devil's  in  him,  I'll  soon  pull  'im  out." 


110  ANDE    TREMBATH 

The  spectators  crowded  forward.  Could  the  doctor 
cure  the  slain  Turk?  Oh,  yes.  How  wisely  he  goes 
about  his  work !  He  tries  one  remedy  after  another,  but 
of  no  avail.  The  Turk  had  told  St.  George  in  their 
last  encounter  that  he  was  going  to  fight  no  more.  He 
wasn't  going  to  fight  again,  but  to  sham  being  dead, 
and  then  they  would  have  to  bring  on  the  other  players. 
He  was  shamming  wonderfully  well,  until  even  the  squire 
thought  he  was  possibly  badly  hurt.  The  doctor  knew 
different,  however,  for  he  had  been  posted  by  St.  George, 
and  so  he  drew  from  his  pocket  a  bottle  of  exceedingly 
strong  smelling  salts.  He  had  purloined  it  from  his 
mother's  bureau.  This  would  make  him  well,  he  averred. 
St.  George  had  kindness  enough  to  hold  the  Turk's  head 
down,  while  the  doctor  was  administering  the  dose.  Three 
great  strong  whiffs  entered  the  Turk's  nostrils,  and 
seemed  to  enter  every  part  of  his  head  like  the  stinging 
of  a  million  hornets.  He  would  have  gotten  up  then 
and  there  and  fought  the  whole  crowd  had  not  St. 
George  held  his  head,  and  the  doctor  thought  he  had 
better  have  the  full  dose. 

"  Achew !    Achew !    Achew !  " 

St.  George  let  go  the  Turk's  head,  and  the  doctor 
nimbly  stepped  aside;  the  Turk  with  all  the  wrath  of 
his  race  in  his  face,  grasped  his  sword  and  fought  like 
a  demon  for  a  few  moments.  His  being  killed  three  times 
seemed  to  increase  his  power.  Then  the  natural  supe- 
riority of  Ande  in  the  use  of  the  sword  began  to  assert 
itself,  and  the  Turk  thought  that  the  sooner  he  fell  the 
better,  and  accordingly  did  so.     The  old  doctor  slowly 


CHRISTMAS  111 

advanced  and  shook  his  head,  as  If  all  his  skill  was  of 
no  avail  to  resuscitate  the  slain  Saracen. 

"  Ashes  to  ashes,  and  dust  to  dust. 
If  man  can't  cure  Mm,  old  Nick  must.** 

The  doctor  waved  his  staff,  and  in  capered  the  dragon, 
a  sort  of  hobble  horse  made  of  hoops  under  distended 
canvas,  and  worked  by  an  inside  performer.  The  great 
snapping  jaws  and  staring  eyes  scared  the  little  ones, 
but  they  laughed  when  they  found  it  was  only  the  slain 
Turk  that  he  wanted.  The  unfortunate  Turk,  grasped 
by  those  rigorous  jaws,  was  dragged  from  the  hall. 

The  entertainment  ended  with  the  passing  of  the 
Christmas  box,  Into  which  each  one  threw  an  offering, 
and  as  if  In  thankfulness  for  the  amount  the  Christmas 
band,  Turk,  and  dragon  as  well,  mingled  In  a  ludicrous 
dance,  after  which  the  whole  crew  was  regaled  with  hot 
eggnogg  and  cake. 

In  the  midst  of  the  conversation  and  laughter  new 
sounds  penetrated  the  hall  from  without. 

"  Angels  from  the  realms  of  glory, 
Wing  your  flight  o'er  all  the  earth. 
Ye  who  sang  creation's  story, 
Now  proclaim  Messiah's  birth." 

Some  of  the  hall  occupants  rushed  to  the  hall  win- 
dows to  see  the  singers.  There  In  the  pale  moonlight 
were  singers  from  the  parish  church  and  neighbourhood. 
They  were  singing,  accompanied  with  the  music  of 
clarionet  and  serpent  players.     After  the  anthem  the 


112  ANDE    TREMBATH 

squire  sent  the  old  steward  out  to  bid  the  choristers 
enter.  He  did  so  by  saying  to  the  choristers :  **  The 
squire  wants  hall  hangels  to  come  in."  They  entered 
and  continued  singing. 

In  the  midst  of  the  singing  the  Turkish  knight 
leaned  over  to  St.  George  and  muttered: 

"  Ande,  I'll  be  a  Turkey  snipe  no  more,  when  thee 
art  St.  George." 

"  Why .''  "  said  Ande,  "  and  for  goodness  sake  why  do 
'ee  call  it  'Turkey  snipe*.?  Did  'ee  notice  the  squire 
smile?     A  Turkish  knight,  you  mean." 

"  Aye,  I  f orgits  the  name ;  but  'ee  nearly  beat  my 
insides  out  with  thy  old  wooden  sword,  so  'ee  did,'* 
growled  Tommy  Puckinham,  softly. 

Ande  gazed  at  the  Turk's  melancholy  countenance, 
and  chuckled  in  amusement. 

"  It  was  all  in  the  play.  Tommy,  and  if  'ee  didn't  fight 
so  hard  and  I  didn't  cut  and  slash  as  I  did,  perhaps  we 
wouldn't  'ave  the  cake  and  good  stuff  that  we  are  eating 
here  now,"  said  Ande,  at  which  reply  Tommy  seemed 
some  mollified. 

The  "  curl-singers  '*  had  finished  their  anthems  and 
were  regaled  in  the  same  manner  as  the  Christmas 
players,  and  there  was  a  lull  in  the  amusements,  when 
the  great  knocker  on  the  hall  door  sounded  the  presence 
of  a  new  visitor. 


CHAPTER    XIII 

THE  COENISH  DROLL  TELLER 

"  Seest  thou  not  my  harp  ? 

Emblem  of  my  peaceful  calling." 

— Harper  Ballad. 

A  SERVANT  opened  the  hall  door  and  ushered  in  an 
old  man,  slightly  bent  under  the  weight  of  a  harp  under 
its  green  covering.  He  was  clad  in  the  ordinary  gar- 
ments of  the  time,  except  that  he  still  clung  to  the  long 
stockings,  knee  breeches,  and  low  silver  buckled  shoes 
that  were  now  generally  being  discarded  by  the  gentry. 
From  the  hue  of  his  hair,  that  was  of  an  iron-grey  and 
thick  and  wavy  like  his  beard,  and  the  slight  stoop  to 
his  shoulders,  he  must  have  been  in  the  neighbourhood 
of  fifty  years  of  age.  There  was  a  trace  of  humour 
around  the  corners  of  his  mouth,  and  much  fun-light  in 
the  gleam  of  his  twinkling  eyes  that  seemed  to  belie 
the  tragic  nature  of  his  heavy  beetling  brows. 

"  Uncle  Billy !  Uncle  Billy !  "  shouted  some  of  the 
younger  ones,  in  glee. 

"  'Tis  Uncle  Billy,  the  droll  teller,"  said  the  squire 
to  one  of  his  eastern  friends  in  a  side  tone,  and  then  to 
the  new  arrival,  "  Welcome  to  the  Manor  Hall,  Uncle 
Billy,  and  to  our  Christmas  cheer.  Come  nigh  the  fire 
and  get  thy  fingers  loosened  up,  for  we  must  have  a  tune 
to-night." 

113 


114.  ANDE     TREMBATH 

Uncle  Billy,  the  droll,  sat  himself  near  the  yule  log 
and,  while  he  warmed  up  his  cold  hands,  entered  into 
conversation  with  the  squire  and  one  or  two  of  his  elder 
friends. 

The  droll  teller  of  Cornwall  was  a  privileged  character 
in  the  olden  times.  Somewhat  embodying  the  profession 
of  the  minstrel  and  the  story-teller,  he  was  always 
assured  of  a  ready  welcome.  For  ages  the  western  part 
of  Saxon  England  terminated  at  the  River  Tamar,  and 
the  people  west  of  that  stream,  girt  with  hills  and  wild 
moors,  had  little  communication  with  the  outside  world. 
Hence  when  the  profession  of  the  minstrel  began  to 
decline  in  the  days  of  Elizabeth,  this  section  gave  it  a 
ready  welcome  and  asylum.  The  lack  of  railways  and 
newspapers  gave  the  droll  the  profession  of  a  news 
courier,  and  at  any  house  he  tarried  he  was  regarded 
with  favour  and  reverence.  How  they  stood  around 
him  in  the  evening  hours,  in  cottage  or  hall,  and  listened 
with  eager  interest  to  the  news  of  the  great  outside 
world,  and  how  with  awe  upon  their  faces  they  listened 
to  the  tales  of  Tregeagle,  the  giant  Cormoran  of  St. 
Michael's  Mount !  Many  knew  the  tales,  but  none  could 
tell  them  with  the  vivid  realism  of  the  droll,  and  then 
how  the  eyes  of  the  youths  would  flash  at  the  tales  of 
King  Arthur,  the  greatest  king  of  the  Cornish  line. 

Of  all  droll  tellers,  Uncle  Billy  was  the  most  loved 
and  the  most  famous.  He  could  enter  into  the  cottages 
of  the  common  people  and  be  one  of  their  midst,  speak- 
ing in  their  own  dialect,  or  could  associate  with  the 
gentry  speaking  in  language  as  good  as  their  own,  and 


CORNISH     DROLL-TELLER       115 

at  times  better.  He  was  not  only  gifted  with  oratorical 
and  musical  power,  but  also  had  a  fund  of  information 
in  legendary  lore  and  was  as  familiar  with  the  tales  of 
Rome  and  Greece  as  a  university  scholar.  Some  even 
went  so  far  as  to  say  that  he  was  a  scholar  of  Eton 
College  when  he  was  a  lad,  had  been  disappointed  in  a 
love  affair  and  had  drifted  away  from  all  who  knew 
him  in  consequence.  At  times,  after  some  legend  told 
with  great  power,  some  of  his  friends  among  the  gentry 
would  remonstrate  with  him  on  his  wandering  life  and 
offer  to  assist  him  into  some  greater  sphere  of  useful- 
ness, in  better  keeping  with  his  education. 

"  Sphere  of  usefulness,"  Billy  would  respond.  "  What 
profession  is  more  useful  than  that  of  the  minstrel,  or 
as  people  call  me,  the  droll  .f"  I  have  brought  happiness 
into  cottage  and  hall  and  wiped  the  tears  from  sorrow- 
ing eyes  with  fun  and  laughter.  I  have  made  the  youth's 
heart  burn  with  high  purpose  to  emulate  the  heroic 
deeds  of  old,  and  I  have  implanted  thoughts  of  sober- 
ness in  the  giddy  headed.  What  could  be  more  useful.'' 
And  could  I  have  a  happier  occupation  were  I  in  the 
position  of  a  servant  .f*  No,  I  prefer  the  old  independent 
life  of  the  droll;  and  as  for  my  high  education,"  Billy 
would  always  stop  here,  and  with  a  funny  twinkle  in 
his  eyes  and  dropping  into  the  language  of  the  country 
clout  say,  "  I  beant  much  of  a  scholard." 

"  Well,  Billy,  give  us  a  song,"  said  the  squire,  seeing 
that  the  droll  teller  had  become  sufficiently  thawed  out 
to  finger  the  harp. 

"  Or  a  story,"  said  a  relative  of  the  squire. 


116  ANDE     TREMBATH 

"  Tell  us  of  the  oxen  kneeling  on  Christmas  night," 
piped  in  a  young,  shrill,  boyish  voice. 

"  Les  have  Duffy  and  The  Devil,"  said  one  of  the 
"  curl  "  singers. 

"  Or  the  Cornish  Tale  of  King  Arthur,"  said  another. 

"  Well,  well,  one  at  a  time.  Suppose  I  sing  ye  one 
of  the  old  Christmas  songs  first,"  responded  Uncle  Billy, 
and  tuning  up  his  harp  he  swept  with  rapid,  light  fingers 
the  opening  bars  of  "  The  First  Good  News  That  Mary 
Had."  This  was  followed  by  "  I  See  Three  Ships  Come 
Sailing  In,"  and  was  greeted  with  great  applause  at  the 
close. 

The  old  butler  brought  in  a  steaming  bowl  of  egg- 
nog  punch  which  he  placed  on  the  table  near  the  harper's 
chair ;  after  refreshing  himself  the  droll  began  the  tale 
of  Duffy  and  the  Devil,  telling  it,  as  was  his  custom, 
partly  in  verse  to  the  accompaniment  of  the  harp,  and 
partly  in  prose. 

THE  TALE  OF  DUFFY  AND  THE  DEVIL. 

An  old  bachelor  squire  of  Cornubia's  race 

Was  the  master  of  old  Lovell  Hall; 
He'd  a  jolly  round  face,  and  the  fox  he  would  trace 
Over  moor  and  through  dale  in  a  glorious  chase, 

But  of  women  he  would  none  at  all. 

Cider  making  was  nigh  and  in  Buryan  church  town 

For  more  hands  he  was  seeking  one  day; 
Words  and  blows  did  resound,  and  with  her  swing-tail  gown, 
Old  Janey  was  beating  her  stepdaughter  around. 

In  her  cottage,  that  was  by  his  way. 

"  Hallo,  what's  the  row,"  said  the  squire,  as  he  dis- 


CORNISH     DROLL-TELLER       117 

mounted  and  entered  the  cottage.  Being  a  magistrate, 
he  thought  it  was  his  duty  to  settle  all  quarrels,  but  he 
had  scarcely  got  within  when  he  was  sorry  he  had 
meddled.  Old  Janey  had  been  using  the  skirt  of  her 
gown  to  carry  out  the  grate  ashes,  and  beating  Duffy, 
her  stepdaughter,  with  the  gown  afterward;  there  was 
such  a  dust  in  the  air  that  the  squire  went  into  a  fit 
of  coughing. 

"  'Tis  Duffy,"  said  old  Janey.  "  She  can't  knit  nor 
spin  and  does  nothing  for  her  living.  She's  that  lazy, 
your  honour,"  and  Janey,  the  dust  settling  a  bit, 
dropped    a  curtesy  to  the  squire. 

"  'Tedn't  so,  your  honour,"  said  Duffy,  as  the  tears 
gathered  in  her  blue  eyes.  "  My  knitting  and  spinning 
is  of  the  very  best." 

Well,  the  upshot  of  the  matter  was  that  the  squire 
took  Duffy  home  with  him  to  Lovell  Hall,  and  the  hall 
housekeeper  sent  her  into  the  attic  to  spin.  Old  Janey 
was  glad  to  get  rid  of  her  stepdaughter,  and  Duffy  was 
glad  to  get  away  and,  though  she  had  told  an  untruth 
to  the  squire,  it  didn't  bother  her  much,  until  she  found 
herself  surrounded  by  the  wool  sacks  in  the  upper  part 
of  Lovell  Hall.  There,  casting  herself  down  on  the  wool 
sacks,  she  said :  **  The  devil  may  spin  for  the  squire, 
but  I  can't  and  won't."  Scarcely  had  she  said  this 
when  a  voice  was  heard: 

"  A  bargain !    A  bargain ! "  said  the  voice  loud  and  clear 

Of  a  neat  little  man  in  garb  black; 
"  But  remember,  my  dear,  since  ye've  called  me  here. 
If  ye  can't  guess  my  name,  I'll  have  'ee  in  a  year," 

And  he  brought  his  tail  down  with  a  rap. 


118  ANDE     TREMBATH 

"  All  right,"  said  Duffy  undaunted,  and  tossed  up  her 
head  in  disdain,  and  then  fell  to  lolling  on  the  wool  sacks 
and  idling  and  singing  away  the  whole  day.  In  the 
evening  the  little  man  in  black  handed  to  her  the  result 
of  his  day's  spinning  and  she  descended  with  it  into  the 
great  hall  below, 

"  Zounds !  What  a  liar  old  Janey  was,"  said  the 
squire,  as  he  viewed  the  fine  amount  of  spun  yarn,  and 
casting  a  favouring  glance  on  Duffy  he  said  she  was  the 
finest  spinner  in  Cornwall. 

The  next  day  Duffy  took  the  yarn  with  her  to  the  attic 
to  knit  the  squire's  hunting  stockings,  and  the  little 
man,  true  to  his  contract,  performed  the  work  for  her 
and  soon, 

The  stockings  were  finished,  and  knit  strong  as  leather. 

Squire  Lovell  was  filled  with  delight; 
With  dogs  all  together,  in  all  sorts  of  weather. 
His  old  shanks  were  sound  in  furze,  brambles  or  heather. 

Whether  hunting  by  day  or  by  night. 

But  now  came  a  worrying  time  for  the  old  squire,  for 
the  lads  from  the  whole  country  around  had  heard  of 
Duffy's  fine  spinning  and  were  not  indifferent  to  Duffy's 
charms.  The  squire  feared  that  she  would  marry  one 
of  them  and  then  he  should  lose  his  fine  stockings,  and 
so  resolved  to  forestall  such  a  dire  thing  by  marrying 
Duffy  himself.  They  were  married  in  the  old  parish 
church  before  a  great  assemblage  from  far  and  near. 
The  old  squire's  heart  was  full  of  glee  as  he  gazed  at 
the  young,  disappointed  men  around  him.    "  Ha !  Ha ! " 


CORNISH     DROLL-TELLER       119 

thought  he,  "  she  soon  shall  be  mine."  But  no  sooner 
had  he  thought  this  than  there  was  a  terrible,  distinct 
voice  echoing  the  same  thoughts. 

"  Ha !    Ha !    She  soon  shall  be  mine ! "  blood  curdling  and  dire. 
Echoed  a  voice;  the  people  were  still, 
And  from  window  of  choir  gazed  the  black  man  in  ire. 
Yet  knew  that  the  end  of  his  compact  was  nigh  her, 
When  she  must  be  subject  to  his  will. 

The  people  in  the  church  heard  the  voice,  but  no  one 
knew  who  had  spoken  the  words.  The  rector  was  in- 
dignant that  the  service  should  be  interrupted  and  would 
have  had  the  party,  then  and  there,  up  before  the  gen- 
tlemen at  the  court  if  he  could  have  found  him.  The 
supposition  was  that  some  jealous  suitor  had  spoken, 
and  the  thing  was  soon  forgotten  by  everyone  but  Duffy, 
or  Lady  Lovell,  as  we  must  now  call  her.  She  knew 
and  was  nigh  to  fainting  had  not  the  squire  supported 
her  with  his  sturdy  arm.  They  were  happy  in  their 
married  life,  for  the  squire  loved  his  wife  and  Duffy 
had  always  a  secret  regard  for  him,  but  there  was  a 
dread  in  her  mind  that  the  words  of  the  little  man  in 
black  must  soon  come  true.  The  year  was  nigh  up 
and  she  had  tried  all  plans  to  discover  his  name,  but 
of  little  avail.  She  was  nigh  in  despair  when  a  person 
whom  she  had  befriended  relieved  her  of  much  of  her 
anxiety.  That  person  was  old  Betty  of  the  mill,  who 
was  commonly  supposed  to  be  something  of  a  witch. 

She  carefully  inquired  of  Lady  Lovell  when  the  squire 
went  on  his  neixt  hunting  trip,  and  having  ascertained 


120  ANDE     TREMBATH 

the  time  to  the  very  hour,  she  obtained  from  her  a  jack 
of  the  squire's  best  beer. 

That  day  the  squire  went  hunting  far  from  home  and 
even  at  nightfall  returned  not  to  Lovell  Hall.  As  the 
hours  of  nightfall  came  on,  the  dogs,  one  by  one,  came 
back  all  lathered  in  foam,  but  no  Squire  Lovell.  At  ten 
o'clock  came  the  squire  and  he  was  visibly  excited  and 
seemed  bubbling  over  with  laughter. 

"  Duffy,"  said  he,  "  I  have  had  as  great  a  lark  as  I 
have  ever  had  in  my  life.  I  hunted  all  day  over  all  the 
moors  and  downs.  Trove,  Trevider,  Lemoma  and  Brene, 
and  didn't  catch  a  thing.  The  mare  was  tired  out  and 
so  was  I,  when  up  jumped  as  fine  a  hare  as  I  had  ever 
seen,  from  a  hedge  along  the  roadside.  She  was  away 
and  so  were  the  dogs  instantly,  and  I  followed.  What 
a  chase!  This  way  and  that  way  she  doubled,  and  at 
length  entered  the  mouth  of  Fugoe's  dark  cave. 

In  went  the  dogs  and  in  foUow'd  I,  water  dripping, 

Mud  flying,  dogs  yelping  in  full  cry. 
Owls  wheeling,  bats  flapping,  the  place  was  nigh  sick'ning 
And  black  as  the  night,  but  the  pace  was  now  quickening. 

When  a  singular  sight  caught  my  eye. 

We  had  gone  nigh  a  mile  when  the  dogs  tum'd  to  flight* 

For  Alack!     On  the  farthermost  shore 
Of  a  lake  was  a  light  of  a  fire.    What  a  sight! 
There  was  old  Nick  a-dancing  with  all  his  might 

With  witches;  there  was  more  than  a  score. 

"  And  there  was  old  Bet  of  the  mill  a-thumping  and 
a-beating  her  crowd,  giving  music  for  the  dance,  and, 
as  I  live,  by  her  side  was  my  best  jack  of  beer,  and  each 


CORNISH     DROLL-TELLER       121 

time  old  Nick  would  come  around  he  would  take  a  drink. 
The  old  witches  sang  as  they  danced, 

"Here's  to  the  devil. 
With  wooden  pick  and  shovel. 
Digging  tin  by  the  bushel 
With  his  tail  cocked  up." 

The  wild  dance  and  frolic  grew  fast  and  furious. 

Brighter  blaz'd  the  fire-flames,  blue  and  hot. 
Then  Nick  in  full  chorus,  with  witches,  uproarious. 
Shouted  and  sang  like  the  spirit  of  Boreas, 
"My  name  is  Terry  top,  Terry  top." 

"  Aye,  and  he  kept  shouting  it  as  if  he  had  lost  his 
head  with  the  drinking  of  too  much  of  my  beer.  Then 
he  jumped  among  the  old  witches,  and  such  a  sight! 

He  kicked  the  old  witches  and  Bet  the  old  dame, 

'Till  I  laughed  out  aloud  at  the  lark, 
Then  he  whirl'd  and  he  came,  in  a  reel,  through  the  flame, 
"  Go  it,  old  Nick,"  said  I,  "  you  are  worthy  your  name," 

And  then — in  a  moment — 'twas  dark. 

And  away  galloped  I,  with  the  mare  at  full  speed; 

With  a  din,  the  whole  crowd  followed  fast; 
With  old  Nick  in  the  lead,  over  moor  and  o'er  mead. 
But  I  distanc'd  them  soon,  for  the  mare  knew  my  need. 

And  now  here  I  am,  Dufty,  at  last. 

*' Why  doesn't  'ee  laugh,  Duffy.''"  said  the  squire. 
Duffy,  who  had  turned  pale  at  the  mentioning  of  the 
little  man's  name,  now  regained  her  good  spirits  and 
laughed  merrily  and  long,  for  she  knew  she  was  safe. 
The  squire  stretched  out  his  limbs  in  weariness,  for  he 
had  hunted  far  and  wide  and  felt  the  need  of  sleep,  so  he 


122  ANDE    TREMBATH 

soon  retired.  But  not  so  Duffy,  for  she  knew  that  in 
an  hour  or  so  the  little  man  in  black  would  come  to  claim 
his  prize.  First  she  said  the  Creed,  and  then  she  prayed, 
for  she  had  resolved  to  become  an  exemplary  woman 
could  she  escape  the  consequences  of  the  rash  vow  she 
had  made  a  year  before.  Then  in  the  midst  of  her  de- 
votions there  was  heard  the  wild  neighing  of  a  horse 
without,  and  then  the  door,  though  shut  with  bolt  and 
bar,  opened,  and  in  stepped  the  little  man  in  black, 
bowing  low,  and  yet  with  a  cunning  leer  in  his  eyes. 

"  I  'ave  come  for  'ee,  Duffy,"  said  he,  "  unless  " — and 
he  paused, — "  unless  ye  can  guess  my  name." 

**  Terrytop ! "  said  Duffy,  with  a  confident  look  on 
her  features. 

"  Correct,  m'lady,"  said  Terrytop  with  a  sigh  of 
regret,  and  then  with  a  sweep  of  his  tail  he  was  gone. 

The  droll  ceased  his  tale  and  was  greeted  by  a  round 
of  applause,  for  it  was  not  only  the  story,  but  the 
manner  of  the  harper,  at  one  time  frank,  ruddy  and 
jovial  like  Squire  Lovell,  at  another  time  with  a  cunning 
leer  like  the  man  in  black,  at  another  time  disdainful  or 
tearful,  fearful  or  glad,  according  to  the  mood  of 
Duffy,  that  drew  forth  the  appreciation  of  his  auditors. 
He  calmly  sipped  a  bowl  of  punch,  while  the  auditors 
entered  into  conversation,  though  expecting  more  tales 
when  the  harper  had  rested  himself. 


CHAPTER  XIV 

ST.     GEORGE     AND     FAIR     SABRA 

Blest  as  Immortal  Zeus  is  he. 
The  youth  who  fondly  sits  by  thee. 
And  gazes  at  the  witchery  trace 
Of  gladsome  laughter  in  thy  face, 
The  music  of  thy  voice  to  hear. 
The  incense  of  thy  presence  near. 

During  the  recital  of  the  droll's  tale  where  was 
Ande  ?  Generally,  he  was  interested  in  the  tales  of  Uncle 
Billy,  the  droll,  but  this  night  he  had  eyes  and  ears 
only  for  the  squire's  daughter. 

The  latter  was  in  her  element.  She  was  young,  but 
the  death  of  her  mother  had  long  made  her  the  mistress 
of  the  great  house.  The  presence  of  the  guests  inspired 
her  to  do  her  utmost  as  hostess,  and  she  was  not  unequal 
to  the  task.  The  earlier  part  of  the  evening  saw  her 
flitting  about,  a  fairy  figure  in  lace  and  ribbons.  Dur- 
ing the  entertainment  of  the  droll  she  was  at  leisure,  and 
sat  on  one  side  at  a  little  distance,  entirely  engrossed  in 
the  narrative.     Here  it  was  that  Ande  found  her. 

"  And  is  St.  George  welcomed  by  fair  Sabra,  the 
King  of  Egypt's  daughter  .J'  "  he  said,  as  he  sat  himself 
near  her. 

In  those  weeks  intervening  between  the  squire's  repa- 
irs 


124  ANDE     TREMBATH 

ration  and  the  Christmas  period,  Ande  had  been  a  fre- 
quent visitor  at  the  Manor.  The  squire  could  not  easily 
forget  his  prejudice  against  the  name  stained  with 
treason,  but  he  was  generous  enough  to  smother  it  in 
the  light  of  the  youth's  brave  conduct  in  the  runaway, 
and  wished  also  to  make  some  amends  for  the  injustice 
of  placing  him  in  the  stocks. 

So  the  lad  was  found  frequently  in  the  neighbourhood 
of  the  Manor.  The  Manor  walks  were  familiar  to  him. 
He  had  often  assisted  Mistress  Alice  in  her  garden 
work  in  her  own  favourite  plot,  and  a  warm  and  strong 
attachment  had  grown  up  between  them.  The  old  squire 
occasionally  nodded  to  him  and  smiled,  but  beyond 
that  there  was  little  friendly  conversation  between 
them. 

But  to  the  squire's  daughter  how  useful  he  became. 
Was  there  any  work  that  would  soil  her  dainty  fingers? 
Ande  must  perform  it.  Was  there  any  task  that  seemed 
too  hard  for  her.''  Ande  was  in  requisition.  Once  she 
had  hurt  her  finger  over  a  rose  bush.  It  was  Ande  who 
heard  the  faint  exclamation  of  pain  and  who  flew  in- 
stantly to  her  side,  and  how  tenderly  and  with  what  a 
vague  thrill,  as  if  he  himself  were  hurt,  did  he  proceed  to 
extract  the  jagged  thorn.  It  was  his  own  handkerchief 
that  bound  up  the  wound,  and  with  what  gallantry 
he  had  requested  her  to  keep  it  as  a  remembrance  of  him. 
He  knew  not  that  that  piece  of  linen  was  stored  up 
among  Mistress  Alice's  special  treasures.  She  knew 
that  her  womanly  intuition  at  the  gate  of  the  Primrose 
Cottage  was  true.     This  youth  did  love  her,  and  it  was 


ST.     GEORGE    AND     FAIR     SABRA    125 

not  displeasing  to  her;  but  she  knew  something  else. 
She  was  gradually  knowing  her  own  feelings,  that  she 
cherished  a  deeper  sentiment  than  friendship  for  this 
brave  youth  who  had  saved  her  life.  The  thought  of 
this  sentiment  would  send  the  crimson  waves  o'er  her 
countenance  when  she  dwelt  upon  it,  for  a  moment,  in 
her  own  pretty  rooms.  She  would  not  have  him  suspect 
such  a  thing — not  for  the  world.  She  knew  her 
father's  hatred  for  treason,  his  strong  loyal  sentiments. 
No,  she  dare  not  think  of  it  too  often.  Her  father  had 
revealed  his  plans  for  her  future — the  marriage  with 
young  Richard  Lanyan.  But  she  had  neither  ac- 
quiesced nor  refused.  Master  Lanyan  was  a  welcome 
visitor  to  the  Manor,  and  she  treated  him  well  as  her 
father's  guest. 

Lanyan  and  Ande  had  met  once  in  her  presence  at 
the  Manor,  There  was  a  gleam  of  hatred  in  each  eye. 
This  was  the  son  of  the  hated  family  that  had  deprived 
the  Trembaths  of  their  rightful  possessions,  and  now 
Ande  could  perceive  the  marked  favour  with  which  he 
was  greeted  by  the  old  squire,  and  had  a  dim  conscious- 
ness of  the  squire's  hopes.  It  was  as  much  as  Mistress 
Alice  could  do  to  so  conduct  herself  as  to  offend  neither. 
Lanyan,  after  the  first  quick,  sharp  glance  at  Trem- 
bath,  paid  little  heed  to  him.  Calmly  and  tranquilly 
he  ignored  him  and  devoted  his  attention  to  Mistress 
Alice,  taking  the  conversation  into  such  scholarly, 
Etonian  themes  that  Ande,  finding  himself  out  of  his 
depths,  was  constrained  to  silence  and  soon  moved 
homeward  with  bitter  feelings  within  him. 


126  ANDE     TREMBATH 

He  had  not  come  near  the  Manor  for  a  week  after 
that,  and  somehow  or  other  Mistress  Alice  had  a  fore- 
boding that  something  was  wrong.  Did  it  pain  her? 
She  would  not  acknowledge  that  it  did,  even  to  herself. 
But  how  graciously  she  treated  him  when  he  did  return. 
So  had  affairs  been  before  the  Christmastide,  and  on 
account  of  it  there  was  not  that  strangeness  between 
them  that  existed  at  the  first. 

With  the  remark  above  mentioned,  the  Knight,  St. 
George,  seated  himself  near  Alice.  She  smiled  pleas- 
antly and  responded: 

"  I  am  afraid  fair  Sabra  and  the  King  of  Egypt  are 
too  far  remote  from  our  locality  and  times  to  be  mixed 
up  with  us.  I  must  congratulate  you,  Ande,  for  your 
able  impersonation  of  St.  George.  By  the  way,  who  is 
that  Turk  that  so  murders  the  king's  English-.'' " 

"  Thomas  Puckinharn,  one  of  the  village  lads.  He 
is  a  good  fighter,  but  a  blow  or  two  harder  than  usual 
saps  his  courage.  I  had  hard  ado  to  make  him  fight  at 
all,"  and  he  related  their  practice  upon  the  village  road 
and  the  strategy  of  allowing  Tommy  a  squire  as  a  balm 
to  heal  his  wounded  feelings.  She  laughed  at  his  droll 
manner  of  reciting  it,  and  her  laugh  seemed  to  be  music 
to  his  soul  and  to  quicken  the  beating  of  his  heart 
within. 

"  Why,"  she  was  saying,  "  did  you  beat  the  Turk  so 
savagely?  I  must  confess  I  never  saw  a  real  battle,  but 
I  imagined  I  saw  one  all  the  time  you  were  fighting. 
You  beat  down  his  guard  and  struck  him  over  the  head 
and  shoulders,  until  I  trembled.     I  believe  you  would 


ST.     GEORGE     AND     FAIR     SABRA   127 

make  an  excellent  knight,  had  you  lived  in  their  times," 
and  she  shook  her  elfin  locks  in  approbation  of  his  fight- 
ing prowess. 

"  Well,  I  thought  I  was  fighting  for  fair  Sabra,  and 
the  reality  of  it  seemed  to  put  greater  strength  into  my 
arms.  A  knight  always  fights  more  bravely  in  the 
presence  of  his  lady." 

"  It  must  be  nice  to  have  such  a  brave  knight.  And 
who  is  the  lady?  " 

*'  One  surpassing  fair  and  worthy  of  the  crown  of 
Egypt.  One  whom  I  have  served,  as  a  knight  always 
serves  his  lady." 

**  I  suppose  you  mean  me,"  said  the  nfiaiden,  with  a 
flush,  and  yet  with  some  gaiety  in  her  tones.  "  Well, 
be  it  so.  You  shall  be  my  knight  and  defender  and 
shall  wear  a  pledge  of  your  valour  as  a  remembrance," 
and  she  plucked  a  hothouse  blossom  from  the  knot  at  her 
breast  and  presented  it  to  him.  "  Fight  bravely  in  life, 
and  you  will  be  a  true  knight." 

"  That  I  will,"  said  Ande,  as  he  received  the  flower, 
"  and  I  shall  remember  this  Christmas  eve,  throughout 
my  life,  as  one  of  its  best  days.  I  shall  even  remove  the 
stain  of  treason  from  our  name.  Treason  that  is  so 
hateful  to  me !  " 

"  I  trust  you  may,"  said  the  girl,  earnestly.  "  It 
has  been  a  hard  burden  to  bear.  And  with  the  ideas  of 
our  times,  it  is  hard  to  advance  under  it  to  positions  of 
honour  and  trust.     But  I  believe  you  will  succeed." 

"  You  do  not  believe,  then,  in  the  current  report,  held 
true  even  by  your  father,  of  the  truth  of  the  accusation 


128  ANDE     TREMBATH 

that  has  always  clung  to  our  name  from  my  grand- 
father's times  ?  " 

**  Knowing  you  as  I  do,  no.  If  your  father  and  your 
grandfather  were  at  all  like  you,  they  could  not  have 
done  what  current  report  states.  No.  I  do  not  believe 
it." 

**  I  am  glad  that  you  do  not'  believe  it.  It  gives  me 
courage  to  succeed."  There  was  a  light  in  the  eyes  of 
St.  George,  a  gleam  of  genuine  pleasure. 

**  The  removal  of  that  stain,  which  you  have  often 
told  me  of,  will  remove,  perhaps,  many  barriers  of 
which  you  are  ignorant.     My  knight  must  do  it." 

"  I  am  that  knight,"  said  Ande,  warmly. 

"  The  knight  that  I  should  admire  would  be  one  that 
will  not  despair  at  a  few  difficulties." 

"  I  am  that  knight,"  eagerly. 

"  He  must  be  truthful  and  scorn  a  lie." 

"  I  do,  from  the  bottom  of  my  heart." 

"  He  must  be  a  worker,  and  brave  and  courageous." 

"  My  principles  exactly." 

"  He  must  not  be  satisfied  to  be  an  ordinary  knight. 
He  must  be  a  leader." 

"  My  ambition,"  emphatically. 

*'  He  must  be  an  exceptional  man,  noble,  upright,  a 
defender  of  the  weak,  and — and — and — must  be  my 
knight,  and  no  one  else's."  Her  eyes  were  shining 
darkly  with  a  happy  gleam,  and  there  was  a  glow  on  her 
cheeks  that  made  her  a  thousand  times  more  attractive 
to  the  enthralled  soul  before  her.  Her  countenance 
was  close  to  his.     Ah!     The  magic  of  its   influence! 


I  am  that  knight,"  said  Ande,  warmly 


ST.  GEORGE  AND  FAIR  SABRA  129 

His  heart  was  beating  so  tumultuously  he  feared  all 
heard  it.  He  knew  then  and  there  the  reason  of  his 
interest  in  her.  Those  vague  feelings,  which  he  had  not 
taken  the  trouble  to  analyse,  burst  suddenly  upon  him 
like  a  revelation.  He  loved,  yes,  he  knew  it.  Hereto- 
fore he  had  gone  on  blindly,  driven  by  the  subtile 
promptings  within.  Now  he  understood  his  own  heart. 
There  was  a  pang  as  he  thought  of  the  stain  on  his 
name,  and  then  a  joyous  bound  of  his  heart  as  he  thought 
she  believed  in  him.  In  his  ability  to  eradicate  the  blot. 
She  had  called  him  her  knight.  He  would  be  so.  But 
then  the  thought  of  Master  Lanyan  emerged  from  the 
depths  of  the  past,  the  squire's  favour,  and  that  scene 
when  he  was  so  contemptuously  ignored  by  the  haughty, 
young  Etonian  In  the  gardens.  He  had  thought  then 
that  his  hatred  for  him  was  due  to  the  injustice  to  his 
family;  now  he  knew.  Her  features,  so  close  to  his 
own,  were  the  most  prominent  thing  in  the  world  to  him 
then.  What  cared  he  for  the  twanging  harp  of  Uncle 
Billy,  the  droll.  He  was  ordinarily  interested  In  the 
tales  of  Billy,  but  not  now.  That  last  sentence  of  hers 
of  being  her  knight  and  a  knight  of  no  one  else,  sent  a 
thrill  through  him.  He  longed  to  kiss  her,  then  to  throw 
himself  at  her  feet  and  pour  out  the  adoration  of  his 
soul.  But  he  knew  his  situation  and  he  simply  said, 
"  I  am  your  knight,  and  no  one  else's." 
Then  the  thought  of  Lanyan  again  came  to  his  mind, 
"  And  since  I  am  your  knight  and  belong  to  no  other, 
it  Is  but  fair  to  ask  you  to  have  no  other  knight,"  half 
doubtingly. 


130  ANDE    TREMBATH 

"  Queens  and  ladies  of  old  always  had  many  knights 
to  do  them  service,"  in  mischievous,  jesting  tones. 

Ande's  heart  died  within  him  and  the  light  left  his 
features. 

"  And  you  intend  to  have  many  knights  ?  " 

"  Perhaps." 

"  At  least  not  Master  Lanyan,"  fiercely,  in  an  under- 
tone. 

"  My  knight  must  not  be  a  dictator." 

*'  But  I  must  know,"  persistently. 

**  You  are  impertinent,"  with  some  dignity. 

**  He  and  his  are  the  enemies  of  my  house,"  doggedly. 

**  And  the  friends  of  ours,"  quickly. 

**  But  he  is  an  enemy  of  your  knight." 

"  I  will  not  be  catechised."  There  was  the  gleam  of 
a  tear  of  vexation  in  her  eyes  and  a  quiver  in  her  voice, 
that  sent  the  militant  spirit  in  the  breast  of  Ande  head- 
long in  defeat.  She  turned  her  face  from  him  in  an 
effort  to  hide  her  feelings.  An  agony  of  remorse  swept 
o'er  his  soul. 

"  I  have  hurt  you,"  he  said,  timidly. 

No  answer. 

"  What  have  I  done.  I  am  a  brute  and  a  coward.  I 
am  not  worthy  to  be  called  your  knight,"  exclaimed 
Ande,  in  remorseful  self-reproach. 

No  answer. 

*'  Look  at  me,  please.  Speak  to  me,"  pleadingly. 
*'  You  will  not.  I  am  the  worst  coward  living — ^to  hurt 
the  feelings  of  the  best  of  women,"  in  doleful  misery. 

"  You  are  hateful  and  unjust."     An  answer  at  length 


ST.    GEORGE    AND    FAIR     SABRA    131 

from  the  hidden  face  that  made  his  countenance  blanch 
and  pierced  even  within,  but  he  answered  humbly : 

"  I  am.     I  have  been  hateful  and  unjust  to  you." 

"  No.  Hateful  and  unjust  to  yourself."  The  face 
again  came  into  view  and,  could  he  believe  it, — yes, — ^the 
tear  was  gone  and  the  fun-light  was  twinkling  in  merri- 
ment. 

"  How?  "  in  bewildered  discomfiture. 

"  When  you  called  yourself  a  coward  and  the  worst  of 
ones,  you  were  unjust  to  yourself  and  hateful  to  your- 
self." 

'*  I  suppose  you  are  right,"  humbly. 

"  Don't  look  so  doleful ;  you  may  be  noticed.  I 
would  have  my  knight  cheerful  and  happy." 

"  And  you  are  not  angry?  " 

*'  No,"  and  she  shook  her  elfish  curls  and  smiled. 

"  And  you  will  have  no  other  knight  but  me?  " 

"  You  must  not  be  presumptuous,"  seriously. 

"  Mistress  Alice,  it  is  not  presumptuous  for  me  to 
speak  to  you  on  a  subject  that  is  dear  to  me,"  said  with 
great  earnestness,  his  eyes  devouring  her  face.  *'  And 
specially  so  here  in  the  hall  of  my  ancestors.  Do  you 
see  the  coat-of-arms  o'er  the  mantelpiece,  engraved  in 
the  oak?  " 

The  girl  was  relieved  by  what  she  thought  a  change 
in  the  conversation.     She  brightened  into  new  interest. 

"  Yes,  and  I  wondered  ever  since  a  child  what  was  the 
meaning  of  the  horse  with  his  rider  surrounded  by  the 
waves  of  the  sea.     Oh,  do  tell  me,  please !  " 

"  That    is    the    coat-of-arms    of    our    family.     The 


132  ANDE     TREMBATH 

earliest  records  speak  of  them  as  occupying  the  Lyon- 
nesse  country,  which  is  now  under  the  sea  beyond  Land's 
End.  Sir  Trembath,  the  head  of  the  family,  was  over- 
taken by  the  flood,  that  happened  about  in  the  eighth 
century,  and  just  had  to  gallop  and  swim  his  horse  to  the 
hills  for  refuge.  He  was  the  only  one  who  escaped  the 
inroads  of  the  ocean.  All  the  lands  of  his  barony, 
together  with  others,  and  a  hundred  and  forty  parish 
churches,  are  now  covered  by  the  deep.  My  ancestry 
is  as  noble  as  any,  and  it  is  not  presumption  for  me  to 
speak  to  you  on  a  subject  that  is  very  important  to  me» 
As  my  ancestry  was  then,  so  am  I  now.  Mistress  Alice, 
the  last  heir  of  the  Trembaths  needs  a  star  of  hope  to 
guide  him."  He  was  speaking  rapidly,  although  only 
loud  enough  for  her  to  hear.  The  wild  tempest  of  feel- 
ing was  at  length  breaking  forth. 

'*  Listen,"  said  the  girl,  demurely,  "  Uncle  Billy  is 
speaking  now  of  the  Lyonesse  and  Arthur." 

The  unruly  tongue  was  silenced.  Ande,  though  he 
listened,  heard  not.  His  eyes  were  on  the  squire's 
daughter,  but  seeing  that  she  kept  her  gaze  riveted  on 
the  harper,  he  grew  moody  and  silent. 

Whether  she  listened  or  not  to  the  song  of  the  droll 
is  a  question.  Certainly  there  was  nothing  in  the  narra- 
tive of  the  droll,  just  then,  to  cause  her  cheek  to  glow 
with  a  damask  hue. 

The  harper's  song  and  tale  was  ended,  and  since  the 
hour  was  late  there  was  bustle  and  confusion  to  be  gone. 

"  I  have  been  unjust  in  dictating  to  you,"  said  Ande, 
humbly. 


ST.     GEORGE    AND    FAIR     SABRA    133 

"  And  I  can  have  whatever  knights  I  please?  "  archly. 

"  You  are  the  best  judge.  But  I  would  rather  not," 
said  he,  with  slightly  woeful  look. 

"  Then  you  choose  to  let  me  be  my  own  judge?  " 

«  To  be  sure." 

"  Then  you  are  my  knight.  Master  Lanyan  is  not 
and  cannot  be  my  knight.  I  choose  so  freely.  Be 
upright,  noble,  and  good." 

Is  it  any  wonder  that  the  Knight  of  St.  George 
departed  with  light  footsteps.  He  was  but  a  lad  merg- 
ing into  manhood.  Love  was  strong  within  him  and 
flourished  in  keeping  with  the  vigour  of  his  youth.  He 
knew  not  that  she  cared  for  him.  Sometimes  he  thought 
so.  He  even  dared  to  hope  so  when  the  doubts  did  not 
becloud  his  vision.  It  was  something,  though,  to  be  her 
chosen  knight.  He  knew  by  her  last  words  that  he  was 
a  closer  friend  at  least  than  Lanyan.  The  thought 
lightened  his  spirits. 

The  Christmas  players  were  the  first  on  the  way  to 
the  village.  There  was  a  chatter  among  them,  some 
extolling  the  squire's  generosity,  others — the  ability  of 
the  droll.  Ande  was  silent.  He  was  busy  with  his 
thoughts. 

"  Ah !  The  squire's  maid  gave  'ee  as  hard  a  drub- 
bing as  thee  gave  me.  Edent  it  so.?  "  said  Tom  Puck- 
inham,  and  he  gave  Ande  a  nudge  in  the  side,  as  he 
whispered  this  in  his  ear. 

"  Ah !     Get  along,  Tom,  do !  "  replied  Ande. 

Tom  wa^  the  only  one  who  noticed  the  tete-a-tete  of 
St,  George  and  Sabra.     Being  a  loyal  friend  of  Ande, 


134  ANDE     TREMBATH 

he  prudently  kept  his  own  counsel.  The  remoteness  of 
their  situation,  the  voice  and  sound  of  the  harp,  the  in- 
tense interest  of  the  guests  in  the  harper's  entertainment, 
precluded  any  from  hearing  the  conversation  of  that 
period. 

Ande's  dreams  that  night  were  very  much  confused. 
Now  he  was  with  King  Arthur  at  Lyonnese ;  now  against 
the  dragon  or  the  Turk ;  then  on  horseback  riding 
through  the  roaring  waves  of  ocean,  bearing  in  front  of 
him  the  form  of  the  fair  Sabra,  who  appeared  wonder- 
fully like  the  squire's  daughter.  Then  casting  his  eyes 
behind,  he  caught  a  view  of  the  dragon,  beating  and 
lashing  the  waves  into  foam,  in  his  rage,  and  somehow 
the  dragon's  head  was  that  of  Master  Lanyan. 


CHAPTER    XV 

THE     HELSTON      GRAMMAR      SCHOOL 

Three  weeks  elapsed  and  Master  Ande  Trembath 
had  entered  upon  a  new  life.  He  was  enrolled  upon 
the  list  of  the  scholars  of  Helston  Grammar  School. 

For  four  centuries  the  school  had  been  the  centre  of 
education  for  the  west  of  Cornwall.  Gentlemen  can 
point  to  it  with  pride  this  day,  as  they  could  then,  as 
the  birthplace  of  their  early  efforts  and  the  inspiration 
of  their  ambitions.  At  the  time  of  Ande's  entrance  it 
had  emerged  from  the  obscurity  of  the  past  into  the 
foremost  school  of  Cornwall.  This  result  was  due 
much  to  the  energetic  labours  and  talents  of  the  head 
master,  Rev.  Mr.  Trewan,  M.  A.,  a  scholar  of  Oxford. 
Stern,  yet  kind  and  affectionate  to  the  youths  under 
his  charge,  he  was  universally  beloved  by  his  pupils. 
In  his  dealings  with  his  pupils  of  whatever  age,  he  was 
of  the  same  opinion  as  Quintilian  that  "  a  child  too  dis- 
ingenuous to  be  corrected  by  reproof,  like  a  slave,  will 
only  be  hardened  by  continuous  blows." 

Though  the  scholars  loved  and  revered  the  head,  yet 
the  under-master,  a  certain  Mr.  Sherwood,  received  little 
or  no  affection  from  them.  He  was  sharp-featured  as 
a  weasel,  sarcastic  in  speech,  a  scholarly  egotist,  with 
the  garment  of  dignity  and  a  predilection  to  the  use  of 
euphonious  words. 

135 


136  ANDE     TREMBATH 

The  new  scholar,  entering  in  the  midst  of  the  year, 
found  himself  sadly  handicapped.  In  age  and  size,  he 
should  have  been  enrolled  among  the  fifth  form.  His 
withdrawal  from  the  parish  school  after  the  lamentable 
affair  of  the  stocks  placed  him  in  no  higher  position 
than  near  the  head  of  the  fourth. 

The  head  of  the  sixth,  a  certain  William  Jordan,  a 
great  scholar — almost  a  demigod — in  the  estimation  of 
the  lesser  forms,  and  one  of  the  school  monitors,  took 
Ande  in  charge  after  his  examination,  and  courteously 
showed  him  around  the  school.  The  schoolroom  with 
its  row  of  desks  and  forms,  the  cloakroom,  the  dining 
hall,  the  library,  the  dormitory,  all  were  successively 
inspected. 

"  This  will  be  your  sleeping  apartment,"  said  Jor- 
dan, as  he  opened  a  green  baize  door  on  the  second  floor. 
Within  were  several  beds  and  other  bedroom  furniture. 
A  few  windows  that  opened  toward  the  playground 
gave  abundance  of  light. 

The  new  scholar  soon  became  accustomed  with  his 
new  surroundings  and  set  in  to  study  with  a  zeal  that 
surprised  masters  and  pupils.  He  won  the  hearts  of  his 
fellows  of  the  fourth  by  setting  out  a  feast  for  them 
that  first  night  in  the  fourth  form  dormitory.  Mrs. 
Trembath  had  not  forgotten  a  hamper  of  good  things, 
among  them  several  bottles  of  mild  herby  beer.  These 
she  had  sent  in  with  his  luggage.  The  feast  was  spread 
on  one  of  the  beds,  and  his  fellows,  after  it  was  termi- 
nated, promptly  voted  him  a  trump  and  proclaimed  him, 
then  and  there,  "  King  of  the  Fourth  Form." 


HELSTON     GRAMMAR     SCHOOL    137 

The  king  accepted  his  title  by  giving  an  entertain- 
ment that  night  in  a  noiseless  manner.  With  the  aid 
of  a  little  phosporus  he  caused  many  uncouth  and 
laughable  figures  to  appear  upon  the  wall,  to  the  great 
wonder  of  the  smaller  fourth  form  boys. 

Before  he  had  been  in  the  fourth  a  month  he  had 
made  such  progress  that  Master  Sherwood  entertained 
seriously  the  thought  of  his  promotion,  and  indeed, 
did  promote  him  at  the  opening  of  spring.  There  was 
great  sorrow  among  the  fourth  when  the  news  became 
known,  as  he  had  been  of  great  assistance  to  them  in 
difficult  points  in  the  various  lessons.  A  fifth  form 
scholar  was  not  so  accessible  as  one  in  their  own 
form. 

The  fifth  were  not  near  so  desirable  a  set  of  fellows 
as  those  he  had  left.  There  was  a  difference  between 
being  king  of  the  fourth,  both  in  learning  and  strength, 
and  occupying  the  lowest  position  in  the  fifth  form. 
There  were  two  in  the  form  that  were  prominent,  but 
in  a  different  degree.  One,  a  certain  Albert  Tenny, 
the  head  of  the  form,  who  made  particularly  bright  reci- 
tations ;  the  other,  Richard  Thomas,  the  one  who  was 
stationed  next  to  him,  the  son  of  a  well-to-do  farmer 
of  the  Lizard  Point.  Thomas  was  heavy  set,  elephan- 
tine in  size  and  strength,  and  on  account  of  the  latter 
and  a  dulness  in  study  was  named  by  the  boys  King 
Bullhead,  although  they  never  mentioned  the  latter  in 
his  presence,  or  dire  would  be  his  vengeance. 

There  was  not  much  of  a  contest  between  Dick,  as 
he  was  called,  and  Ande,  to  see  which  should  be  the  head 


138  ANDE     TREMBATH 

of  the  tail  end  of  the  form.  The  very  first  lesson  Ande 
went  above  Dick. 

**  I  see,"  said  Mr.  Sherwood,  with  a  sarcastic  smile 
on  his  sharp  features ;  "  I  see,  Master  Thomas,  you  are 
resolved  to  maintain  your  old  position." 

There  was  a  slight  laugh  on  the  part  of  the  rest  of 
the  form.  Dick  squirmed  under  the  sarcasm  and  half 
audible  laughter  of  his  fellows,  and  looked  down  in 
dogged  silence,  growling  something  under  his  breath. 
Sarcasm  and  taunts  had  made  him  sullen  and  revenge- 
ful, and  the  laughter  at  his  mistakes  had  made  him 
more  stupid  and  awkward.  He  would  sit  at  his  desk 
in  an  idle  manner  with  his  large  flat  feet  sprawling  over 
the  floor  in  diff'erent  directions.  Ambition  had  left  his 
features,  if,  indeed,  he  ever  had  any.  How  he  ever 
made  the  fifth  was  a  wonder.  He  had  tried  year  after 
year,  but  never  succeeded  in  raising  himself  above  the 
foot  of  the  fifth. 

The  crisis  between  Dick,  Tenny,  and  Ande  came 
about  in  this  way.  The  form  had  started  in  on  the 
study  of  Virgil,  and  thought  it  exceedingly  hard  after 
the  simple,  narrative  discourse  of  Caesar's  Commentaries. 
Master  Sherwood  was  not  sparing  in  his  assigning  of 
lessons,  and  had  assigned  a  few  lines  in  addition  to  the 
regular,  allotted  portion.  There  was  much  secret  dis- 
satisfaction, and  especially  from  Dullhead  Dick.  The 
thing  had  occurred  once  before  and  they  had  univer- 
sally decided  not  to  read  more  than  the  generally 
allotted  portion.  Ande  had  been  the  soul  of  honour  on 
that  occasion,  had  refused  to  read,  and  the  Master  had 


HELSTON     GRAMMAR     SCHOOL    139 

passed  him  over  lightly  as  he  was  a  new  fifth  form  lad. 
To  his  surprise  several  of  the  fifth  arose  when  called 
upon  and  recited  the  extra  portion.  Now,  disgusted 
with  the  whole  fifth,  he  refused  to  assemble  with  them 
to  consider  their  grievances.  The  secret  conclave  was 
called  and  the  decision  made,  but  they  stupidly  said 
nothing  to  their  absent  member. 

The  eventful  recitation  came,  and  the  close  of  the 
allotted  portion  read  by  Ande  himself.  Then  he 
paused. 

"  Proceed,"  said  Sherwood. 

"  If  you  do,"  growled  Dick,  who  was  next  in  line, 
"  you'll  take  a  licking  after  school." 

The  whispered  threat  exasperated  the  reader,  and  he 
proceeded  resolutely  on.  Dick  gave  him  a  sly  kick 
under  the  bench  in  his  rage. 

"^olus,  haec  contra;  Tuos,  O  regina,  quid  optes 
Explorare  labor ;  mihi  j  ussa  capessere  fas  est.' " 

"  Stop  there,"  said  the  master.  "  You  may  begin, 
Richard  Thomas." 

"  We  haven't  got  any  farther,"  blurted  out  Dick. 

"  Ah !    I  thought  I  assigned  to  the  eightieth  line." 

"  We  only  take  thirty-five  lines,"  persisted  Dick. 

*'  Master  Thomas,  will  you  recite "?  "  sternly  asked 
the  master. 

Dick  made  no  movement,  but  sat  in  dogged  and  sullen 
silence. 

"  Very  well,"  said  Mr.  Sherwood,  "  you  may  write 
out  the  next  thirty  lines  and  commit  them  to  memory." 


140  ANDE     TREMBATH 

"  I'll  pay  you  back,"  growled  Dick  to  Ande,  as  he 
gave  him  a  fierce  nudge. 

"  Tenny,  you  may  scan  and  translate." 

Tonny,  the  head,  did  not  dare  disobey,  although  he 
had  promised  with  the  others  not  to  read  the  extra  por- 
tion, and  even  had  not  studied  it.  He,  however,  trusting 
in  his  natural  ability,  thought  he  could  weather  through. 
He  began,  but  stumbled  lamentably  until  Mr.  Sherwood, 
incensed,  gave  his  lines  to  the  next,  who  made  as  bad  a 
failure  of  them;  and  so  it  continued  until  Ande  was 
again  reached.     Mr.  Sherwood  compressed  his  lips. 

"  Well,  Trembath,  we'll  try  you  again." 

Ande  arose  and  scanned  and  translated  in  a  truly 
commendable  manner. 

"  Master  Trembath,  you  have  done  credit  to  those 
lines,"  said  Mr.  Sherwood,  well  pleased.  "  You  have 
saved  the  credit  of  the  form ;  you  may  take  your  place 
at  the  head  of  the  fifth." 

The  lads  above  were  furious  with  jealousy,  and  burly 
Dick  vowed  threats  of  vengeance  for  his  thirty  lines. 

The  meeting  was  not  long  in  appearing.  Ande  was 
on  the  Bowling  Green  that  same  evening,  when  Dick 
and  a  crowd  of  the  fifth  met  him.  The  stupid  and  the 
bright  had  clasped  hands  against  him;  the  bright  ones 
out  of  jealousy,  the  dull  ones  out  of  revenge. 

"  Here's  the  red  'eaded  Deane,"  said  Dick,  insultingly. 

"  I  would  just  as  soon  be  a  descendant  of  the  red- 
headed Danes,  as  an  offspring  of  the  Lizard  ^  barbarians, 

1  Lizard    Barbarians. — An    old  ■  legend   of   the   Lizard    Point 
states  that  its  inhabitants  were  so  ignorant  in  olden  times  that 


HELSTON     GRAMMAR     SCHOOL    141 

who,  if  history  is  correct,  didn't  know  enough  to  walk 
upright,  but  travelled  on  all  fours  like  a  donkey,"  said 
Ande,  coolly  surveying  the  crowd. 

Dick  was  in  a  fury  of  rage.  The  legend  had  been 
frequently  poked  at  him  and  it  always  reached  a  sore 
part. 

"  Wilt  fight,"  he  roared,  "  and  I'll  show  'ee  a  donkey's 
heels."  Dick,  before  the  masters,  tried  the  best  English 
he  could  use,  for  he  had  tasted  the  scorn  of  Sherwood 
often,  but  in  a  rage,  and  before  the  lads,  the  dialect  was 
good  enough  for  him.  Now,  I  suppose  he  meant  that  he 
would  make  Ande  feel  the  weight  of  his  shoes,  but  that 
worthy  responded  in  sarcastic  vein. 

"  No  need  to  fight  for  that,  for  I  see  them  already," 
and  he  gazed  contemplatively  at  Dick's  large  feet. 

Even  the  duller  ones  could  not  refrain  from  a  grin  of 
delight,  but  they  were  determined  to  have  Ande  whipped, 
and  so  arrangements  having  been  made,  they  wandered 
out  some  distance  from  the  Bowling  Green  to  secure  a 
place.  The  news  had  been  carried  to  the  fourth  form, 
and  the  whole  form  came  as  his  supporters.  Now,  the 
fifth  were  certain  of  Dick's  victory,  for  in  size,  age,  and 
strength  he  seemed  superior  to  Ande.  The  fourth  were 
exceedingly  anxious,  while  Ande  himself  had  no  doubts 
of  the  outcome.  Dullhead,  though  heavier  and  larger 
than  the  redoubtable  Bully  Bob  Sloan,  had  nothing  but 
brute  strength,  and  even  Bully  Bob  would  have  made 
short  work  of  him. 

they  walked  on  hands  and  knees  until  some  shipwrecked  sailors 
taught  them  the  art  of  standing. 


142  ANDE     TREMBATH 

"  Art  ready  ?  "  said  Dick,  and  an  affirmative  answer 
being  given,  "  then  come  on,"  and  with  a  bellow,  Dick 
lowered  his  great  head  and  charged  like  an  enraged  bull. 
His  antagonist  caught  his  head  in  a  vice-like  chancery 
grip,  and  hitting  him  a  playful  tap,  released  him  with  a 
spin  that  sent  him  some  distance  back.  Dullhead  shook 
his  head,  as  if  he  wondered  what  had  happened,  and  then 
again  charged.  This  time  Ande  side-stepped,  and  tap- 
ping Dick  with  his  right,  and  crooking  his  foot,  sent  him 
head  over  heels. 

*'  Dost  see  the  donkey's  heels,  lads .?" 

The  fourth  roared,  and  shouted  their  applause. 

Then  was  Dick's  blood  at  fever  heat.  He  must  get 
the  desired  underhold  for  a  wrestle,  of  which  he  knew 
some  tactics,  and  so  again  came  the  charge,  which  was 
met  with  no  love-taps  this  time.  A  straight,  hard,  left- 
hander caught  Dick  full  upon  the  nose,  and  then,  crash, 
another  upon  the  eye.  Dick,  dazed,  still  came  on,  for 
he  was  the  soul  of  courage.  This  kind  of  fighting  was 
new  to  him,  however.  To  be  hit  again  and  again,  without 
being  able  to  get  a  grip  on  his  foe,  was  maddening. 
Meantime,  Ande's  hands  were  playing  a  lively  tattoo 
upon  Dick's  eyes,  ears,  and  nose.  At  last,  fairly  unable 
to  stand  the  punishment,  Dick  broke  for  his  comer,  but 
it  was  not  in  retreat ;  it  was  but  to  gain  the  impetus  for 
a  new  rush,  by  which  he  sought  to  gain  the  desired  grip 
for  a  throw.  On  he  came,  like  a  whirlwind,  and  then, 
no  one  knew  how  it  happened,  but  there  was  a  quick 
flash  of  an  extended  arm,  and  burly  Dick  went  down  as 
if  he  was  shot,  and  laid  motionless. 


HELSTON    GRAMMAR    SCHOOL  143 

Some  of  the  fifth  rushed  forward  to  assist  Dick,  but 
were  withheld  by  the  voice  of  his  antagonist,  who  wished 
to  know  if  any  of  the  fifth  desired  to  take  up  Dick's 
cause. 

Not  a  one  responded,  and  then  he  did  a  thing  for 
which  he  was  always  admired,  and  rightly  so.  He  had 
not  forgotten  his  knighthood.  He  came  forward  and 
was  the  leader  in  bringing  Dick  to  consciousness.  Some, 
at  his  word,  brought  water  from  the  river  Cober  and 
tenderly  he  chafed  Dick's  hands  and  forehead,  until  the 
unconscious  fellow  was  fully  restored. 

"  Much  hurt.?"  said  Ande. 

"  Hah — hah !  "  gasped  Dick,  as  he  opened  his  eyes,  and 
caught  his  breath  in  gasps.  "  Not  much — all  right, 
soon." 

Then  followed  more  chafing  and  Dick  was  at  length 
slowly  assisted  to  his  feet. 

"  No  offence,"  said  Ande,  as  he  held  out  his  hand, 
"  you  know  I  had  to  fight." 

Dick  took  the  outstretched  hand,  a  little  sheepishly, 
and  shook  it  gingerly. 

"  No  offence.     Better  luck  next  time." 

"  Come,  now.  Is  there  going  to  be  a  next  time.?  I 
don't  want  to  permanently  cripple  my  hands  by  hitting 
such  an  ironsides  as  you  are,"  laughingly. 

Dick  rubbed  his  great  head  tenderly,  felt  of  his  bat- 
tered features,  and  then,  with  a  slight  smile :  "  No,  I 
guess  we've  satisfied  the  code  of  honour." 

Together,  fourth  and  fifth,  wended  their  way  ami- 
cably back  to  the  school  grounds.     Ande  continued  to 


144  ANDE     TREMBATH 

hold  his  position  as  head  of  the  fifth,  and  won  the  regard 
of  all  by  championing  the  cause  of  the  school  against 
all  outsiders.  In  the  latter  he  was  ably  assisted  by  Dick, 
who,  strange  to  say,  became  his  most  devoted  and 
attached  friend.  Dick  was  a  magnificent  fellow  physi- 
cally, and  there  was  a  good  bit  of  fine  principle  about 
him,  but  his  strength,  dulness,  and  awkwardness  had 
made  him  heretofore  a  bully.  Under  the  warm  glow  of 
Ande's  friendship,  new  life  and  hope  was  implanted 
within  him ;  he  applied  himself  with  diligence  to  his  stud- 
ies, and  under  his  chum's  fostering  care,  made  progress. 
The  two  were  now  partners  in  the  same  study. 

One  night,  when  they  were  preparing  the  coming  day's 
lessons,  Dick  looked  up  from  his  book. 

"  Ande,  remember  the  fight  we  had?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  Did  you  'ave  anything  in  your  hand  when  you 
struck  me  that  last  time.?  " 

"No.     Why?" 

"  'Cause,  I  thought  it  was  a  club,"  and  Dick  grinned. 

"  I  hated  to  hit  so  hard.  But  it  seemed  none  of  my 
former  blows  were  having  much  effect.  It  was  like  hit- 
ting an  elephant." 

There  was  silence  in  the  study  room  for  the  space  of 
half  an  hour,  and  then  Dick  asked  his  companion  to 
review  him  o'er  his  lesson.  Ande  did  so,  and  was  agree- 
ably surprised ;  it  was  the  best  lesson  that  Dick  had  ever 
prepared. 

"  I'm  much  obliged,"  said  Dick.  "This  hearing  of  a 
lesson  helps  wonderfully." 


HELSTON     GRAMMAR     SCHOOL   145 

*'  Dick,"  said  Ande,  "  a  red-headed  Dane  is  a  pretty 
fair  sort  of  a  fellow,  after  all.  I  say,  he  has  some 
redeemable  virtues." 

"  Yes,  and  I  'ave  discovered  something  else." 

"What's  that?" 

"  A  donkey  has  a  head  as  well  as  a  pair  of  heels," 
whereupon  they  both  laughed  heartily. 


CHAPTER    XVI 

THE  HURLING  MATCH 

"Toms,  Wills  and  Jans 
Take  off  all's  on  the  sands." 

— St.  Ives'  Hurler  a. 

"  Gware  wheag,  yeo  gware  teag." 
Fair  play  is  good  play. 

— Ancient  Cornish  Hurler's  Motto. 

Gware  wheag,  yeo  gware  teag,"  roared  Dick,  as  he 
seized  Ande  by  the  shoulders  and  engaged  in  a  playful 
wrestle,  in  which,  however,  he  was  worsted,  for  the  lat- 
ter, though  taken  by  surprise,  soon  had  Dick  down  on 
the  sward  of  the  Bowling  Green. 

"  Now,"  said  he,  "  is  it  fair  play  for  a  wrestle,  or  is 
there  something  else  in  the  wind.?     What's  up?  " 

"  Can't  guess,  old  fellow .?  " 

"  No,  unless  it's  hurling,  my  elephantine  infant. 
There  is  nothing  that  stirs  your  blood  like  that.  Is  it 
hurling?  " 

"  Aye,  you've  got  it,"  and  tumbling  up  from  the  sod, 
Dick  shook  his  huge  frame  and  adjusted  his  neckerchief 
that  had  become  slightly  awry  in  the  brief  wrestling 
match. 

"  Who's  challenged  the  school  ?  "  asked  Ande,  with  a 
little  trace  of  excitement. 

"  The    louts    of    Breage    parish.     Their    captain,  a 

146 


THE     HURLING    MATCH  147 

husky  chap,  brought  In  a  challenge.  Squire  Vivian,  Sir 
James  Lanyan,  and  other  gentlemen  put  up  a  prize  of 
ten  pounds  and  a  fine  hurling  ball  to  the  victors.  The 
hurling  ball  has  a  silver  plate  on  it,  with  the  old  motto 
engraved  on  it,  and  the  school  decided  to  accept  the  chal- 
lenge. The  gentlemen  are  anxious  for  the  school  to 
wipe  out  an  old  score  against  Breage  that  happened 
years  ago  in  a  match  against  that  parish.  They  are 
going  to  elect  a  captain  of  the  school  team  and  so  I 
hurried  off  to  find  the  Dane." 

"  Well,  here  I  am,  my  husky  Ajax,"  and  Ande,  seizing 
Dick's  arm,  hurried  with  him  up  to  the  Grammar  School. 

At  the  school  there  was  bustle  and  excitement.  The 
schoolroom  was  crowded  with  sixth  and  fifth  form  boys, 
and  the  interest  of  the  lesser  forms  was  noticed  in  the 
babbling  of  many  tongues.  Jordan,  the  monitor,  the 
sage  of  the  sixth,  presided,  and  rapped  for  order,  and 
the  mass  of  lads  crowded  to  their  respective  places.  In 
calm,  even  tones,  he  speaks. 

"  We  know  why  we  are  here.  The  captain  of  the 
Breage  hurlers  has  just  left  us  with  our  acceptance  of 
the  challenge  to  a  hurling  match.  For  the  glory  and 
honour  of  the  school,  and  to  wipe  out  an  old  score  against 
us,  we  are  going  to  play  them,  though  they  have  forty 
stout  fellows,  and  we  are  a  little  deficient  in  number. 
We  are  going  to  make  up  In  training  and  zeal  what  we 
lack  In  number,  and  we  are  going  to  win  the  prize.  But 
a  great  deal  depends  upon  the  captain  we  elect  to  lead 
us.  He  must  be  skilful,  active,  resourceful.  In  the 
election  we  must  not  be  influenced  by  favouritism,  but  by 


148  ANDE     TREMBATH 

worth.  The  sixth  has  heretofore  always  had  the  cap- 
tain, but  in  this  match  I  would  recommend  that  the  fifth 
be  eligible  ako.  If  there  is  no  objection,  we  will  pro- 
ceed to  elect  a  captain  from  the  sixth  and  fifth." 

There  were  a  few  murmurs  of  disapproval  from  the 
sixth,  but  no  open  objections,  so  the  election  proceeded. 
Jordan  was  wise  in  his  bringing  in  the  fifth  as  eligible 
to  the  captaincy,  for  in  that  form  were  the  best  hurlers, 
the  strongest,  the  most  daring. 

In  the  first  ballot  there  was  a  scattering  of  votes,  but 
the  chief  candidates  were  Ande  and  Dick,  the  latter  on 
account  of  his  experience  and  strength,  the  former  on 
account  of  his  activity,  mental  and  physical. 

Once  more  the  ballots  were  taken  and  Ande  won. 
There  was  a  cheer,  in  which  Dick  heartily  joined,  for 
he  had  been  urging  the  lads  from  the  beginning  to 
choose  his  friend. 

And  now  began  the  enlisting  of  the  team.  To  even 
up  the  deficiency  in  numbers,  several  of  the  town's  expert 
hurlers  were  admitted. 

The  next  evening,  on  the  Bowling  Green,  began  the 
practice  and  training.  There  was  wrestling,  running, 
tumbling,  jumping,  and  kindred  exercises  to  improve 
the  agility  and  endurance  of  the  crew.  Three  times  a 
week  there  was  a  long  run  to  Porthleven,  and  even  to 
Breage  and  back,  to  improve  the  wind  of  the  team,  and 
get  them  more  thoroughly  acquainted  with  the  ground. 
Dick  and  a  few  others  needed  constant  practice  to  im- 
prove their  quickness  and  activity. 

The  eventful  day  came  at  length,  in  the  beautiful 


THE     HURLING     MATCH  149 

month  of  April,  and  forth  from  Helston  sallied  the  hurl- 
ing crew,  followed  by  a  hurrahing  company  of  spec- 
tators. Halfway  between  the  parishes  the  Breage  men 
were  lined  up,  with  the  gentlemen  on  one  side  to  start 
the  ball.  Ande  and  the  Breage  captain  consulted  with 
the  gentlemen  about  the  rules. 

"  The  object  is  to  carry  the  ball,  as  soon  as  it  is 
touched  off,  to  your  respective  towns  and  hurl  the  same 
in  through  the  open  parish  church  doors,"  said  Squire 
Vivian. 

"  Aye,  us  knaws  that,"  said  the  Breage  man,  "  but  how 
about  rules.''  Wrastling,  passing,  hurling,  all  to  be 
allowed  in  the  old  style,  or  be  there  any  changes  ?  " 

"  All  to  be  done  in  the  old  style  unless  you  wish,  both 
of  you,  to  make  modifications,"  said  another  of  the  gen- 
tlemen. 

No  modifications  being  advanced  the  captains  re- 
turned to  their  stations  and  began  to  arrange  their 
men.  Then  Ande  anxiously  consults  with  Dick  and  the 
other  leaders  of  his  side.  He  is  once  more  outlining  his 
signals.  He  has  a  small  boatswain's  whistle.  One  blast 
signifies  close  up  on  the  ball ;  two  sharp  blasts  means 
scatter  out  in  the  rear;  three  blasts,  in  quick  succession, 
call  the  attention  of  the  dogs  to  expected  action  on  their 
part.  Jordan  nods  his  head  gravely,  as  he  listens  to 
the  captain,  Dick  shakes  himself  like  a  great  mastiff, 
as  if  he  would  rather  be  engaged  in  active  play  than 
listen  to  rules.  The  gentlemen  are  sizing  up  the  players 
and  putting  bets  on  either  side,  according  to  their  fancy. 

The  heavy  players,  with  Dick  in  the  centre,  are  well 


150  ANDE     TREMBATH 

up  in  front.  There  are  some  twenty  of  these,  and  they 
will  make  their  weight  and  prowess  felt  ere  the  game  is 
over.  Back  of  them  stands  the  captain,  and  back  still 
beyond  him,  some  ten  players  of  lighter  build,  upon 
whose  quickness  and  agility  depend  much.  But  who  are 
those  some  two  hundred  yards  farther  back  on  the  road 
to  Helston?  They  are  lighter  players  from  the  fourth 
and  third  forms,  hard  as  pine  knots,  trained  to  perfec- 
tion in  fieetness  of  foot,  and  able  to  dodge  and  race  like 
hares.  They  are  the  captain's  latest  addition  to  the 
efficiency  of  his  team.  They  are  to  serve  in  the  capacity 
of  "  dogs,"  as  Ande  calls  them.  They  are  to  watch 
their  chances ;  not  to  engage  in  the  scrimmages  where 
weight  will  tell,  but  to  grasp  the  ball  when  opportunity 
comes,  and  speed  with  it  to  their  own  goal.  Notice  them 
playfully  wrestling  with  each  other,  filling  in  the  time 
until  the  game  opens. 

The  Breage  men  are  not  thus  trained  or  lined  up. 
They  depend  more  upon  individual  action  and  weight 
of  their  numbers  than  tactics.  But  now  there  is  a 
movement  up  in  front.     The  players  are  all  in  position. 

"Are  you  ready  .-^  "  shouts  a  gentleman,  preparatory 
to  casting  off  the  ball.  He  is  standing  to  one  side^,  in 
front  of  the  other  gentlemen  and  spectators,  and  is  hold- 
ing the  new  hurling  ball  in  his  hand. 

An  affirmative  answer  is  given  from  both  captains, 
and  up  goes  the  ball  in  the  air,  midway  between  the  two 
contesting  parties.  The  next  instant  there  is  a  charge 
of  both  heavy  brigades  for  its  possession  as  it  descends. 
An  outstretched  hand  catches  it,  and  then  there  is  a 


THE     HURLING    MATCH  151 

furious  heap  of  wriggling  arms  and  legs,  and  then  who 
is  it  that  is  speeding  away  towards  Breage,  with  a  shout 
of  triumph  on  his  lips?  It  is  the  Breage  captain.  He 
is  fully  determined  to  race  at  that  speed  the  two  miles 
intervening  between  him  and  his  own  parish  church,  and 
he  is  going  to  hurl  the  ball,  now  in  his  possession,  in 
through  the  Breage  church  door,  and  thus  win  the  game. 
But  not  so  fast.  Two  miles  is  quite  a  stretch,  and  there 
is  some  one  on  his  track.  Out  from  behind  the  mass  of 
prone  players  leaps  a  form,  Hke  a  horse  and  rider  from 
the  clouds  of  battle  smoke.  In  one  bound  he  has  cleared 
the  heap  of  wriggling  bodies  on  the  ground,  and  then, 
with  the  speed  of  a  greyhound,  he  is  after  the  Breage 
man.  Will  he  overtake  him.'*  Oh,  yes.  If  he  can't,  no 
one  ehe  can.  Dick  and  his  sub-lieutenants  rest  from 
their  exertions.  They  are  confident  that  the  ball  will  be 
back  ere  long.  A  cheer  goes  up  from  the  heavy  brigade 
of  the  Helston  players. 

"Heha»him!" 

"  He  has  downed  him ! " 

"  He  has  the  ball !  " 

It  was  true.  The  school  captain  had  leaped  on  the 
back  of  the  runner,  and  with  a  cute,  wrestling  trick 
brought  him  to  the  ground.  The  ball  flew  out  of  his 
hand  and  was  possessed  the  next  instant  by  the  Helston 
captain,  who  was  now  returning  with  full  speed.  But 
now  a  new  obstacle  presents  itself  in  the  shape  of  the 
great  mass  of  Breage  players.  Will  he  charge  through 
them,  elude  them?  No^  there  are  too  many  for  that. 
There  are  two  shrill  blasts  on  the  boatswain's  whistle, 


162  ANDE     TREMBATH 

and  along  the  Helston  road,  in  the  rear  of  their  heavy 
brigade,  scatter  out  the  school  men.  They  understand 
the  signal  and  are  ready  to  catch  the  ball.  Then,  just 
as  the  Breage  men  are  upon  him,  out  goes  the  hand,  and 
with  the  full  force  of  his  muscular  right  arm,  the  ball  is 
hurled  full  a  hundred  and  fifty  yards,  over  their  heads, 
on  the  way  to  Helston. 

A  member  of  the  light  brigade  caught  it  and  was 
racing  the  next  moment  with  might  and  main  toward 
the  town.  There  is  a  whoop  and  hallo  among  the  dogs, 
as  with  their  best  efforts  they  strive  to  keep  ahead  of  the 
runner,  to  be  ready  for  an  emergency  throw,  should  he 
be  overtaken.  And  now,  in  the  rear,  great  Dick  and 
his  warriors  of  the  heavy  brigade  get  in  their  work,  and 
work  it  is.  It  is  no  easy  task  for  twenty  or  thirty  fel- 
lows to  stop  and  hinder  the  forty  husky  Breage  men  that 
are  resolved  to  overtake  the  runner.  Dick  is  in  his  ele- 
ment. He  has  profited  by  Captain  Ande's  training. 
In  a  twinkling  he  has  thrown  a  half  a  dozen  players  to 
the  ground,  and  is  preparing  to  actively  hinder  others. 
The  Breage  men  are  swearing  under  their  breath.  But 
"  Old  Ironsides,"  as  the  boys  dubbed  Dick  after  his 
memorable  encounter  with  Ande,  could  not  handle  all, 
and  some  there  were  that  escaped  around  the  wings  and 
were  speeding  after  the  Helston  player.  It  is  Ande, 
the  captain,  who  sees  the  danger. 

There  is  a  sharp  blast  on  the  whistle,  the  signal  toi^ 
the  heavy  brigade  to  close  up  on  the  ball.  The  light 
brigade  are  no  match  in  a  scrimmage  against  the  great 
Breage  men.     They  must  have  the  assistance  of  the 


THE     HURLING    MATCH  153 

heavy  brigade,  and  away  go  the  heavy  first  line  men, 
Dick  lumbering  along  in  a  clumsy  gallop,  yet  with 
considerable  speed. 

Three  sharp  blasts  on  the  captain's  whistle,  and  the 
dogs  prepare  with  alertness,  for  action.  And  it  is  time, 
for  a  Breage  man  has  seized  the  Helston  runner.  He 
promptly  hurls  on  the  ball.  It  is  caught  by  one  of  the 
dogs  in  front,  who  sets  off  with  it  at  full  speed,  accom- 
panied by  his  fellows.  These  young  striplings  have  not 
raced  over  moors  and  downs  in  the  game  of  fox  and 
hounds  for  nothing.  See  how  he  runs,  dodging  the 
great  Breage  men,  who  are  now  almost  upon  him.  Ah, 
he  is  caught  at  last,  but  the  ball  is  in  the  hands  of 
another  dog,  passed  to  him  rapidly  in  the  time  of  danger. 
But  now  the  light  brigade  are  also  among  the  dogs,  and 
the  heavy  brigade  is  following  up  fast  in  the  rear.  The 
Breage  men  have  been  split  into  two  factions,  fifteen  of 
them  in  front,  among  the  light  brigade,  the  others 
still  in  the  rear  of  the  heavy  brigade  men  of  the  school 
team. 

The  second  dog  is  caught,  but  he  has  time  to  hurl  the 
ball  to  a  light  brigade  runner  near  him,  who  as  promptly 
hurls  it  on  to  the  light  runners  ahead.  One  of  the  dogs 
seizes  it  and  instantly  diverges  from  the  road  to  the 
fields.  He  realises  that  he  has  a  much  better  chance 
among  the  hedges  and  fields  than  on  the  highroad  with 
the  big  runners  of  Breage.  Over  the  hedge  go  the  run- 
ners of  Breage.  A  little  farther  on  the  Helston  light 
brigade  men  also  leap  the  hedge  and  seek  to  hinder  their 
progress.     The  heavy  brigade  follow  suit.     And  now 


154  ANDE     TREMBATH 

follows  a  battle  royal.  Helston  and  Breage  men  are 
close  on  the  ball,  and  the  Breage  men  are  battling  hard, 
for  the  town  of  Helston  is  but  a  scant  quarter  of  a  mile 
distant. 

A  crowd  of  sightseers  line  the  road  and  hedges,  for  is 
not  this  for  the  glory  of  Helston  and  her  grammar  * 
school.?  Labourers,  with  their  shovels  on  their  shoulders, 
farmers,  with  their  produce,  all  are  anxiously  watching. 
They  have  come  to  see  the  ball  brought  in.  They  know 
it  will  be  victory  for  the  school,  now  it  is  so  near. 

Bravos,  hurrahs,  sound  on  all  sides.  The  dogs  and 
light  brigade  men  are  jubilant  with  expectation.  The 
brook,  or  river  Cober,  is  in  sight.  Could  the  runner 
make  the  bridge,  or  even  dash  through  the  flood,  victory 
seemed  sure.  But  no,  there  is  a  swift  Breage  man  on  his 
track,  and  bids  fair  to  overtake  him.  He  has  him,  and 
he  hurls  the  ball  toward  town. 

It  was  an  unlucky  throw,  for  splash! — it  is  in  the 
river.  Nothing  daunted,  a  light  brigade  man  has 
leaped  in  after  it,  and  then  a  Breage  man  on  top  of  him, 
and  then  others,  until  the  little  stream  is  choked  with 
wrestling  bodies,  heaving,  gasping,  and  the  air  is  full 
of  spray. 

"  'E  'as  it !  Bravo !  "  shouted  the  enthusiastic  Helston 
spectators. 

"  Now,  clear  the  way  for  un !  "  shouted  a  town  beadle, 
as  he  made  the  people  stand  back  to  give  the  runner  a 
clear  track  to  their  own  town. 

To  their  dismay  and  open-mouthed  chagrin,  it  was 
the  Breage  captain  that  leaped  out  of  the  stream,  ball 


THE     HURLING     MATCH  155 

in  hand,  and  charging  hke  a  bull  through  the  light 
brigade  men*,  he  scatters  them  right  and  left  like  chaff 
before  the  wind.  With  a  whoop  and  hallo,  the  heavy 
brigade  strive  to  block  him,  but  he.  makes  a  detour,  leaps 
another  hedge,  and  is  speeding  through  another  field. 
What  matter  brambles  or  thorns,  the  game  must  be 
saved  for  Breage. 

"  Ah !  dear !  dear !  us  thought  'e  was  our  man,  but  it 
'twas  t'other  side,"  said  some  Helston  labourers,  as  they 
gazed  after  the  rapidly  receding  players. 

"  Ah  wadn't  fair,  so  ah  wadn't,"  said  others,  discon- 
solately. 

"  Us  may  as  well  go  back  to  market ;  the  day  is  lost 
for  Helston,"  said  several  farmers,  as  they  turned  from 
the  scene. 

"  Man  alive !  Did  'ee  see  'ow  'e  runned.  Ah  runned 
like  a  white-head." 

With  many  similar  expressions,  the  crowd  of  spec- 
tators melted  away. 

But  follow  the  runner  of  Breage.  By  leaping  suc- 
cessive hedges  he  has  distanced  the  pursuers,  but  he  is 
some  degree  out  of  his  course,  and  makes  obliquely  for 
the  highway.  The  Helston  players  perceive  his  purpose, 
and  gain  the  highway  first.  Here  they  can  make  faster 
progress.  By  the  time  the  Breage  captain  vaults  the 
hedge  with  a  few  of  his  fellows,  the  van  of  the  Helston 
crew,  their  captain  in  the  lead,  is  but  a  hundred  yards 
in  the  rear.  And  now  comes  a  race  with  fair  footing. 
The  heavy  brigade  is  closing  up  fast,  and  the  light  and 
dogs  running  rapidly  in  the  rear.     He  is  overtaken  at 


156  ANDE     TREMBATH 

last,  but  the  ball  is  hurled  onward  to  Breage.  A  Breage 
runner  seizes  it  and  speeds  rapidly  onward.  It  was  now 
Breage's  chance,  and  they  were  doing  their  best.  Ande 
blew  his  whistle  valiantly  for  his  men  to  close  up  on  the 
ball.  And  close  up  they  did,  running  with  a  will.  The 
course  again  diverged  from  the  highway  and  approached 
near  the  coast.  He  is  downed  at  last  without  chance  to 
hurl  the  ball.  Quickly  on  top  of  him  pile  the  other  run- 
ners in  the  lead. 

"  Off  of  me;  I've  lost  the  ball !  » 

It  was  the  Breage  man  underneath  who  had  shouted, 
and  the  five  or  six  players  on  top  of  him  slowly  arose, 
gazed  at  each  other,  then  for  the  hurling  ball,  but  it  had 
disappeared  as  if  by  magic. 

The  players  arrived  one  by  one,  panting  hard  with 
their  exertion,  but  the  ball  was  not  found.  A  new  ball 
was  forthcoming  for  the  emergency,  tossed  off  by  a 
ploughman,  and  the  fierce  contest  renewed.  All  the 
remainder  of  the  afternoon  the  battle  went  on,  victory 
favouring,  smiling,  on  one  side,  then  on  the  other.  The 
players  showed  the  effect  of  their  hard  usage.  The 
dogs  were  torn  and  bleeding  with  brambles  and  thorns, 
and  of  the  hue  of  earth  from  their  constant  contact  with 
it.  The  larger  players  were  also  battered  and  soiled, 
but  they  only  played  the  harder.  Sunset  was  approach- 
ing and  gilded  the  western  heavens  with  hues  of  scar- 
let. The  ball  was  once  more  stopped  within  a  quarter- 
mile  of  Helston.  The  brook,  or  river  Cober,  had  been 
passed.  The  heavy  brigade,  the  light  brigade,  and  even 
the  dogs,  were  mingled  in  one  great  heap  with  Breage 


THE     HURLING.  MATCH  157 

men.  Who  had  the  ball  was  a  mystery.  '^A  Breage 
runner  had  it  when  he  went  down.  It  was  Dick  who 
downed  him.  The  Breage  men  were  desperate,  the 
school  men  determined.  Tenny,  Creakle,  Jordan,  and 
others  resolved  that  the  ball  should  not  leave  them  thus 
close  to  victory. 

But  suddenly  the  great  mound  was  heaved  and  tossed 
like  the  earth  undulated  by  an  earthquake. 

"  Pin  'im  down !  Hold  un !  "  roared  the  Breage  cap- 
tain.    **  E's  their  man,  and  'e's  got  the  ball !  " 

The  dogs  and  lighter  men  nimbly  stepped  aside  to 
make  way  and  assist  their  own  runner.  The  Breage 
players  made  a  last  futile  effort  to  hold  the  runner 
down. 

"  'Old  un !  'Old  un !  damme,  can  none  hold  un !  " 
shouted  the  Breage  captain,  in  wrath  at  the  apparent 
weakness  of  his  men. 

Frantically  the  Breage  men  piled  on  the  heap,  but  of 
no  avail,  for  there  crept  at  that  moment  from  the  mound 
a  great  hulking  form  with  the  ball.  He  was  on  his  feet 
the  next  instant  and  speeding  away  toward  town,  cheered 
on  by  the  dogs  and  light  brigade  and  spectators. 

The  Breage  captain,  with  an  oath  of  rage,  hurling 
to  right  and  left,  like  feathers,  his  own  and  the  school 
men  that  impeded  him,  leaped  upon  the  brawny  runner's 
shoulders  and  sought  to  bring  him  to  earth ;  but  though 
hampered,  the  Helston  runner  strode  on. 

Now,  like  the  phalanx  of  an  army,  the  school  men 
spread  out,  and  with  blocking  tactics,  withheld  those 
that  would  follow.     On  went  the  runner,  unimpeded,  save 


158  ANDE     TREMBATH 

by  the  human  burden  on  his  shoulders,  the  Breage  cap- 
tain, who  in  vain  sought  to  drag  him  down.  The  ascent 
to  old  St.  Michael's  was  reached  at  last,  and  up  went  the 
runner,  striding  on.  It  was  harder  progress  now,  but 
the  open  church  door  was  near.  Another  few  yards  and 
the  game  was  won.  He  is  there  at  last.  The  runner's 
arm  shoots  out.  The  Breage  captain  strives  in  vain  to 
catch  and  deter  the  aim,  but  the  ball  is  gone,  flung  with 
unerring  hand  straight  through  the  open  tower  door. 
The  victory  was  won.  Helston  school  had  wiped  out  the 
score  against  Breage. 

What  cheers  and  what  bravos  resounded  on  all  sides! 
The  bells  of  old  St.  Michael's  pealed  out  in  concert  with 
the  acclamations  of  the  people.  The  Breage  crew  were 
humiliated,  especially  the  captain,  but  on  every  other 
countenance  there  was  the  gladness  of  victory  won. 

A  feast  was  held  in  the  school  that  night  on  a  part  of 
the  prize  money.  Jordan  was  master  of  ceremonies. 
Around  him  clustered  the  warriors  of  the  day,  their  gar- 
ments, wet  and  soiled,  now  changed  to  clean  and  dry. 
With  his  arm  extended  for  silence,  he  exclaimed : 

"  Who  saved  the  day  and  brought  in  the  ball  with  the 
Breage  captain  on  his  back.?     Who  saved  the  game.?  " 

"  Dick  Thomas !  "  was  the  roaring  answer. 

"  Here's  a  huzza  for  Old  Ironsides ! "  shouted 
another. 

The  cheer  was  given  and  the  toast  followed,  and  then 
they  sang,  "  For  He's  a  Jolly  Good  Fellow." 

"  A  speech,  Dick,"  shouted  some  one. 

Dick  arose  and  there  was  more  cheering. 


THE     HURLING    MATCH  159 

**  Well,  I  don't  know  whether  old  Dick  Dullhead  can 
make  a  speech." 

Here  there  were  protests  of  "  No  Dullhead  any  more, 
but  Old  Ironsides." 

"  Well,  I  want  to  drink  a  toast  and  I  want  you  all  to 
drink  the  same.  Here's  to  the  fellow  that  made  Dick 
Dullhead  a  name  and  fellow  of  the  past,  and  made  me 
Dick  Ironsides  instead.  Here's  to  the  one  that  trained 
all  of  us  so  faithfully  and  well  that  each  one  of  us  had 
the  swiftness,  strength,  and  endurance  to  win  the  game. 
Here's  to  the  fellow  that  so  trained  me  that  I  was  able 
to  carry  both  ball  and  Breage  captain  to  the  goal. 
Here's  to  our  valiant  captain,  Ande  Trembath." 

There  was  a  storm  of  cheers  as  they  responded;  but 
where  was  Ande.'' 

Though  he  had  been  missed  since  the  regular  ball 
had  disappeared,  yet  every  one  had  supposed  him  among 
the  crowd  somewhere.  Now  calls  for  the  captain  were 
on  all  sides,  but  he  was  not  present. 

The  majority,  believing  that  he  was  out,  but  would 
be  in  shortly,  kept  up  the  feasting,  singing,  and 
speaking. 

Dick,  after  an  inquiry  here  and  there,  went  out  and 
disappeared  in  the  night. 


CHAPTER  XVII 

PRUSSIA    COVE.       THE    SMUGGLERS*    BATTLE 

"Seventy  years  since,  a  native  of  Breage  called  'Carter,' 
but  better  known,  from  a  most  remarkable  personal  resemblance 
to  Frederick  the  Great,  as  the  '  King  of  Prussia,'  monopolised 
most  of  the  smuggling  trade  of  the  west.  He  chose  as  the  seat 
of  his  business  a  rocky  cove  two  miles  east  of  Marazion,  which 
continues  to  bear  the  name  of  Prussia  Cove." — Robert  Hunt, 
F.  B.  S. 

WHERE  was  the  captain  of  the  Helston  hurlers? 

The  last  time  he  was  seen  was  on  the  cliff  when  the 
prize  hurling  ball  disappeared.  He  had  disengaged 
himself  from  the  tumbling  contestants  when  the  ball 
escaped  from  the  hand  of  the  prostrate  player,  and 
saw  it  roll  swiftly  into  a  neighbouring  ravine  that  led 
downward,  like  a  funnel,  to  the  sands  below.  Like  a 
meteor  he  was  after  it  and  was  out  of  view  before  any 
of  his  fellows  noticed  his  absence.  Down  the  narrow 
pathway  he  plunged  with  reckless  steps,  intent  only  on 
possessing  the  ball  and  had  just  grasped  it,  when 
crash!  a  part  of  the  footpath  gave  way  and  down, 
down,  down,  he  slipped,  faster  and  faster.  He  saw  the 
ground  and  pebbles  fly  past  him  upward  as  if  endued 
with  the  power  of  aerial  flight.  He  grasped  futilely  at 
the  flying  shrubs  and  boulders  and  then  came  the  sick- 
ening sense  of  flying  out  into  space  over  the  clifi'  edge. 

160 


PRUSSIA     COVE  161 

Then  there  was  a  shock,  a  sharp  pain  and, — all  was  a 
blank. 

When  he  'returned  to  consciousness,  he  was  on  a  cot 
with  a  rough,  kindly  face  bending  over  him. 

"  Drink,  m'lad,  it'll  do  'ee  good.  Clunk  un  all 
down/' 

He  felt  something  at  his  lips  and  mechanically  swal- 
lowed it.  The  liquor,  or  whatever  it  was,  revived  him 
in  a  short  time  and  he  sat  up. 

"  Where  am  1?     Am  I  hurt.?  " 

He  slowly  placed  his  hand  to  his  head  and  felt  a 
bandage  around  it. 

"  Ah,  I  remember  now.  I  fell  In  the  hurling  game, 
but  I  still  have  the  ball."  Ande  gazed  around  and 
found  himself  in  what  appeared  an  ordinary  fisherman's 
cabin,  rough  and  uncouth,  but  still  comfortable.  Fish- 
ing tackle  hung  here  and  there  and  there  was  an  odd, 
fishy  smell.  A  few  cheap  prints  hung  on  the  wall  and 
there  was  a  window  through  which  a  glimpse  of  the 
sea  was  visible. 

**  Why,  bless  'ee,  young  sir,  I  thought  'ee  would 
never  come  round,  so  Ah  did;  Ah  was  holding  my  breath 
to  see  whether  'ee  was  mazed  by  the  fall  or  'ad  come 
round,  and  I'm  glad  'tez  the  latter.  But,  bless  'ee,  what 
a  fall !     Damme,  it  was  worse  than  a.  blow  of  a  cutlass." 

It  was  the  voice  of  the  attendant  who  had  been  bend- 
ing over  him ;  he  was  to  all  appearances  a  simple  fisher- 
man, clad  in  rough  fisherman's  clotJies,  and  with  a 
shaggy  crop  of  hair  that  needed  much*  the  barber's  art. 

"  And  what  place  is  this  ?  " 


162  ANDE     TREMBATH 

**  This  es  Prussia  Cove." 

A  revelation  dawned  upon  the  mind  of  the  captain 
of  the  Helston  huriers.  He  had  often  heard  of  Prussia 
Cove  and  its  famous  smuggling  hero,  Captain  Carter, 
who,  on  account  of  his  great  nesemblance  to  Frederick 
the  Great,  was  named  the  "  King  of  Prussia."  Many 
a  keg  of  brandy  and  bale  of  silk  and  lace  found  its 
way  into  the  neighbourhood  of  Helston  through  him. 
Many  a  landlord  and  poor  perasant  profited  by  this 
illicit  trade.  But  smuggling  wa"s  not  esteemed  a  crime 
by  the  people.  The  government,  by  imposing  duties 
on  imports,  was  viewed  partly  in  the  light  of  a  tyrant 
and  justly  to  be  opposed  and  hoodwinked.  The  people 
loved  the  smuggler  better  than  the  king.  Even  rectors 
of  the  church  considered  smuggling  an  honourable 
occupation  and  the  smuggler  a  brave  citizen  seeking 
a  livelihood.  The  government  itself  was  niot  bitterly 
opposed  to  it,  at  least  such  was  its  position  until  after 
the  Napoleonic  wars,  for  by  smuggling  a  hardy  race  of 
seamen  was  bred  that  laid,  primarily,  England's  pres- 
tige on  the  sea. 

The  lad,  like  many  others,  felt  a  kindly  interest  in 
them  and  looked  for  their  welfare. 

"  And  you  are  the  King  of  Prussia  ?  " 

"  Not  'zackly,"  said  the  man  with  a  smile;  "  I*m  just 
'is  prime  minister  on  land." 

"The  watchman?" 

*'  Aye,  and  I  saw  'ee  a-tumbling  down  the  cliff  just 
now  and  brought  'ee  in.  I  thought  'ee  was  done  for, 
sure." 


PRUSSIA    COVE  163 

"  And  the  King?  " 

"  Is  out  on  the  King's  h-ighway  taking  a  walk." 

*'  By  which  you  mean  that  he  is  out  on  the  sea,  and 
is  expected  home  to-night?  " 

"  'Zackly  so." 

**  I'm  much  obliged  for  your  kind  care ;  and  now  I 
feel  able  to  stand  I'll  have  to  be  trayelling  after  the 
boys,  for  it's  getting  dusk." 

"  I  think  'ee  had  better  stay,  at  least  until  the  King 
comes,  for  'ow  do  I  know  but  what  'ee  favours  the  coast- 
guard." 

There  was  an  anxious  and  cunning  look  in  the  watch- 
man's eye. 

"  Well,  just  as  you  say;  I'll  stay." 

The  adventure  of  coming  in  contact  with  the  watch- 
man and  the  idea  of  meeting  the  celebrated  King  of 
Prussia  harmonised  with  the  lad's  daring  spirit  and  he 
was  not  loathe  to  remain. 

"  That's  right,  better  so,  and  'ee'U  see  a  fine  sight," 
nodded  the  watchman,  relieved  of  much  of  his  fears. 
"  And  now  I  suppose  'ee'rt  hungry,  leastways  I  be, 
and  we'll  'ave  a  bit  of  scrowled  pilchards  and  say 
biscuit." 

The  watchman  set  about  the  little  cabin  preparing 
the  evening  meal  for  himself  and  guest  and  became  quite 
communicative.  Exploits  of  the  King  of  Prussia,  his 
smuggling  trips,  his  hairbreadth  escapes,  his  great 
courage,  all  formed  the  burden  of  his  tales.  Ande 
listened  and  felt  more  and  more  the  desire  to  meet  this 
hero  of  the  smuggling  trade.     The  supper  was  ready 


164  ANDE     TREMBATH 

and  together  watchman  and  hurling  captain  fell  to  with 
a  will,  the  latter  eating  with  the  gusto  that  the  hard 
day's  game  naturally  brought. 

In  the  meantime  the  night  settled  in  dark  and  stormy. 
For  some  time  there  had  been  dark,  leaden  clouds  pen- 
dant upon  the  western  horizon  and  a  low,  weird  murmur- 
ing, increasing  to  a  sullen,  muffled  growl  as  of  many 
beasts,  mad  with  hunger  in  a  jungle  fastness.  With 
the  increasing  wind  the  leaden  mas«  burdening  the  hori- 
zon rolled  steadily  inward,  a  roof  of  tumbling  black- 
ness, now  still,  then  rolling  on,  and  fretted  here  and 
there  with  jagged  gleams  of  lightning.  There  was  a 
crashing  roll  of  thunder  like  the  peal  of  many  guns. 

"  Hark ! "  said  the  watchman,  raising  his  fork  in 
midair;  "  just  as  I  thought,  a  storm  a-coming;  so  much 
the  better  for  the  King.  A  storm  brings  a  clear  coast, 
and  yet  I  wish  the  captain  was  ashore,  for  there's  going 
to  be  uncommon  'igh  wind." 

More  thunder  and  more  violent  wind,  and  the  waves 
along  the  shore,  that  generally  rollicked  and  played 
with  boulders  and  companion  cliffs,  began  to  rear  their 
foam  crowned  heads  and  bellow  back  in  harmony  with 
the  thunder  tones  above,  beating  the  defiant  rocks  with 
a  scourge  of  green  watery  thongs.  The  sea-gulls  were 
silenced  by  the  increasing  roar  and  sought  safety  in 
the  crannies  of  the  cliffs.  And  now  the  full  force  of 
the  storm  was  on,  and  even  in  the  retired  cove  was  its 
power  felt,  for  the  small  window  panes  began  to  rattle 
and  vibrate  as  if  moved  by  a  spirit  of  unrest. 

"  'Ark ! "  sarid  the  watchman,  as  he  pushed  back  his 


PRUSSIA     COVE  165 

chair  and  arose  hurriedly.  There  was  a  sound  of  a 
solitary  gun  at  sea,  heard  in  the  lull  of  the  wind,  and 
then  through  the  window  was  seen  the  shooting  course 
of  a  rocket,  comet-like,  athwart  the  stormy  sky. 

"  Ah !  The  King  is  coming  in,  and  'ard  pressed  too. 
Damme,  the  government  dogs  are  after  'im.  Now  there 
was  a  time  when  a  nran  could  earn  a  decent  living  with- 
out 'aving  'is  lugger  sent  to  Davy  Jones'  locker,  but 
now — damme — there's  another  gun!  Les  out  and  give 
'im  a  light !    Bear  a  hand  there  with  that  lantern." 

The  watchman  jerked  an  oilskin  on  his  back  and  a 
sou'wester  on  his  head,  and  casting  a  hasty  glance  at 
the  cabin,  turned  and  bolted  through  the  door,  closely 
followed  by  his  companion. 

Without  the  storm  was  not  much  felt  In  the  sequest- 
ered cove,  although  there  were  occasional  blasts  of  wind 
that  penetrated  the  harbour  entrance,  terrific  in  force, 
and  seemed  to  fairly  take  their  breath  on  their  exit. 
Above,  streaks  of  twilight  were  still  visible,  and  flying, 
scudding  fragments  of  clouds  driven  on  the  blast. 
Then  came  sleet  and  hail  that  stung  the  face  like 
needles.  The  lad  staggered  a  moment  almost  blinded 
by  the  withering,  hail-burdened  wind. 

"  Avast  a  bit,  lad,"  roared  the  watchman,  and  run- 
ning back  and  securing  an  oilskin  and  sou'wester,  "  'ere, 
stow  tha  cargo  in  that,"  handing  the  oilskin,  "  and  clap 
that  on  your  main-top,"  handing  the  great  sou'wester. 
Lights  were  stationed  on  both  points  of  the  narrow 
entrance  and  they  returned  to  the  beach  where  they 
awaited.     There  was  a  fascination  in  the  great  waves 


166  ANDE     TREMBATH 

and  breakers,  hurling  themselves  from  the  gloom  like 
vast  mountains  of  green  darkness  toward  the  cove's 
entrance,  where  they  would  shiver  themselves  to  pieces 
with  a  deep  roar,  augmented  by  its  reverberating 
throughout  the  hollow  length  of  the  harbour. 

Then  as  they  watched,  a  higher  wave  than  usual 
seemed  to  approach  the  entrance — nearer  and  nearer, 
larger  and  larger,  until  it  seemed  to  fill  the  narrow 
cove's  mouth  from  cliff  to  cliff,  and  threatened  engulf- 
raent  of  cove  and  all  in  one  watery  grave.  The  wind 
ceased  for  a  moment.  The  feeling  Ande  had  was  inex- 
pressible. 

"  See ! "  he  roared  to  the  smuggler  watchman,  "  see, 
it  '11  sweep  the  whole  cove ! "  He  was  turning  to  bound 
up  the  cliff,  when  the  watchman  seized  him. 

"  Avast,  lad,  'tez  only  the  lugger." 

True,  it  was  the  lugger,  that  with  shortened,  bellying 
sails,  rushed  in  like  a  thing  of  life,  and  so  great  was  her 
momentum  that  there  was  danger  of  her  beaching.  The 
skipper  was  a  skilful  hand,  and  not  new  at  his  business, 
which  he  demonstrated  by  the  quickness  of  his  orders.  A 
cry  of  command,  and  in  a  twinkling  all  sails  were  neatly 
folded  and  closely  reefed.  Another  command,  and 
gently  the  smuggler  vessel  drew  in  to  the  landing. 

A  scene  of  apparent  confused  activity  instantly 
ensued.  Kegs  of  brandy,  bales  of  silk,  and  rich  fabrics 
were  hurled  recklessly  out  on  the  sands,  and  numbers  of 
hardy  frames,  springing  from  the  very  earth,  bore  them 
away  in  the  darkness.  There  was  a  hollow  boom  beyond 
the  entrance,  and  a  solid  shot  sped  in  through  the  cove- 


PRUSSIA     COVE  167 

mouth,  swept  across  the  sand,  and  buried  itself  in  the 
cliff  beyond.  There  were  oaths,  loud  and  deep,  from  the 
husky,  straining  figures  at  work  in  the  lugger  and  on 
shore,  but  they  paused  not.  Ande's  attention  was  con- 
centrated upon  one  who  seemed  the  chief,  standing  on 
the  landing,  giving  orders,  and,  as  he  turned,  he  was 
startled  by  the  intense  resemblance  of  the  countenance 
to  a  picture  he  had  seen  once  of  Frederick  of  Prussia. 
He  was  of  ordinary  height,  a  little  inclined  to  stoutness, 
and  had  fair  hair,  and  blue  eyes  that  flashed  under  the 
light  of  the  flaming  torches ;  his  regular,  delicate  fea- 
tures had  great  power  of  expression.  With  an  oath,  he 
saw  Ande,  and  grasped  him  by  the  shoulder  with  a  grip 
of  steel. 

"  Who  art  thou,  lad?  » 

The  explanation  of  his  supper  companion,  the  watch- 
man, was  forthcoming,  and  with  a  word  of  apology  the 
captain  turned  to  other  and  more  pressing  affairs. 

Again  came  the  booming  sound  at  sea, — this  time 
closer — and  another  shot  sped  through  the  entrance. 
The  revenue  cutter  was  nearing  the  cove-mouth,  but  the 
smugglers  were  prepared  for  a  grim  resistance.  Pikes 
and  cutlasses  were  gleaming  on  all  sides. 

"  Zounds !  "  muttered  Captain  Carter,  "  they'll  be 
upon  us  in  another  moment,  and  that  before  we  'ave  time 
to  store  the  cargo.  Up  aloft,  there.  Jack,  on  the  head- 
land, and  see  if  you  can't  beat  off  the  dogs.  Open  on 
them  with  solid  ball,"  he  roared,  after  the  watchman, 
who  was  already  climbing  the  ascent.  Ande,  totally  for- 
getting his  injuries  in  the  excitement,  sped  up  after  him. 


168  ANDE     TREMBATH 

Up,  up,  up,  following  the  flickering  light  of  the  watch- 
man's lantern,  he  went.  And  now  the  wind  became  more 
violent,  the  higher  the  ascent,  until  near  the  top  he  was 
scarcely  able  to  stand. 

"  Larboard,  port  your  helm,  there !  "  shouted  the  voice 
of  Jack,  and  he  was  seized  by  that  worthy  and  dragged 
into  a  less  exposed  place.  "  No  man  could  stand  in  a 
gale  like  this  any  further  up,"  shouted  Jack  in  his  ear. 
Another  step  or  two,  and  a  sequestered  place  was  reached, 
where  were  stationed  two  pieces  of  ancient  ordnance,  and 
Jack  and  Ande  were  speedily  loading,  and  none  too  soon, 
for  down  below,  the  cutter's  lights  were  seen  a  short 
distance  from  the  entrance. 

There  was  a  flash  and  then  a  roar,  and  the  ball  was  on 
its  mission. 

"  Too  high.  Better  luck  next  time.  But  I  swear 
that  I  thought  that  'ould  'a'  gone  amidships.  I  do  think 
old  Nick  must  a-tumed  un  aside,  I  do." 

"  It's  had  some  eff'ect,  for  they  are  beating  off," 
answered  Ande. 

"  That's  to  get  a  shot  at  we.  They're  luffing.  But 
we'll  tap  them  first,  I  say.     'Ere,  let's  give  'em  another." 

Again  was  the  flash  and  roar  from  the  cliff',  and  Jack 
fairly  chuckled,  as  one  of  the  lanterns  was  snuffed  out. 

"  Took  a  part  of  'er  taffrail  that  time." 

But  now  the  cutter  was  ready  for  action,  and  boom 
went  one  of  her  guns,  and  the  next  moment  a  ball  struck 
the  cliff'  below  them,  splintering  the  rock  into  fragments. 
Then  again  the  cliff'  guns  spoke,  answered  once  more  by 
the  cutter's,  and  soon  the  action  became  general.     Th« 


PRUSSIA     COVE  169 

roar  of  the  clifF  guns  and  the  revenue  cutter's  mingled 
with  the  howling  blast,  and  made  the  night  hideous  with 
noise.  Though  so  far  above  the  sea,  yet  the  spray  of 
crashing  breakers  frequently  swept  over  them  as  they 
worked  the  cliff  guns,  and  it  and  the  occasional  flying 
sleet,  at  times,  so  dampened  the  powder  that  the  guns 
had  to  be  recharged. 

Ande  was  in  his  element.  Here  was  a  real  battle,  and 
he  paused  not  to  think  that  he  was  firing  upon  a  govern- 
ment boat.  The  wild  soldier  blood  of  his  ancestors  was 
coursing  through  his  veins  like  molten  fire.  He  had  cast 
aside  the  sou'wester  hat,  as  obstructing  his  vision,  and 
truly  he  looked  a  martial  figure  with  his  bandaged  head 
and  flowing  locks  swept  by  the  blast. 

In  the  midst  of  the  detonating  roar,  a  figure  bounded 
from  the  gloom  behind  them.  Jack,  with  a  sulphurous 
oath,  swung  his  cutlass  on  high,  thinking  that  some  reve- 
nue men  had  landed  and  were  charging,  but  Ande 
grasped  the  blade  before  it  could  descend.  Although 
he  cut  his  own  hand  badly  in  the  act,  yet  he  saved  the 
stranger's  life. 

"  Dick ! " 

"  Ande ! " 

It  was  Dick,  who,  searching  in  the  locality  for  his 
friend,  was  attracted  by  the  noise  of  battle.  He  asked 
no  questions,  but  stolidly  set  to  work  to  assist  in  charg- 
ing and  firing  the  guns.  At  length  the  cutter's  guns 
were  fairly  silenced;  she  had  been  beaten  off  and  her 
lights  were  seen  fainter  and  fainter  in  her  hasty  retreat 
out  to  sea. 


170  ANDE     TREMBATH 

"  Now,  stand  by,  men ;  one  more  shot  to  let  them 
remember  Captain  Carter  and  Prussia  Cove." 

It  was  the  gunner,  Jack,  who  spoke,  as  he  finished 
aiming  the  last  piece.  There  was  another  flash,  and 
away  bounded  the  iron  messenger.  A  moment  and  one 
of  the  lights  of  the  distant  cutter  was  quenched,  as  if  the 
bay  had  engulfed  it. 

"  As  I'm  a  sinner,  ef  that  didn't  go  straight  through 
their  cabin  winders.  And  now,  les  down  below  and  see 
'ow  fares  the  captain  and  the  cargo." 

They  descended  and  found  the  King  of  Prussia  in 
excellent  humour.  The  whole  cargo  had  been  safely 
landed  and  concealed  in  numerous  secret  places,  and 
even  the  lugger  had  mysteriously  disappeared. 

"  And  let's  shake  hands  with  our  new  comrades  of  the 
night,"  said  the  captain,  as  he  grasped  the  hands  of 
Ande  and  Dick.  "  You  'ave  shown  us  your  good  will 
to-night,  and  ye  had  better  now  turn  in  and  get  a  bit  of 
rest  afore  morning,  when,  if  ye  are  so  minded,  you  can 
take  the  way  back  to  Helston.  But,  mind  'ee,  my  lads, 
no  word  of  to-night's  affair." 

Both  accepted  the  generous  invitation  of  Captain 
Carter,  and  weary  with  the  double  exertion  of  a  hurling 
game  and  the  smugglers'  battle,  they  soon  lost  them- 
selves in  the  land  of  dreams. 

On  the  morrow  they  were  awakened  by  voices  in  angry 
altercation  without.  The  cutter  had  returned,  but 
slightly  damaged,  and  had  landed  a  force  in  the  cove 
capable  of  sweeping  all  opposition.  But  there  was  no 
opposition,  nothing  incriminating  being  found.     Even 


PRUSSIA     COVE  171 

the  very  guns  on  the  cliff  had  disappeared,  and  the  marks 
of  numerous  feet  on  the  shore  were  partly  obliterated 
by  the  tide.  The  lads,  cautiously  peering  out  from  the 
small  window,  saw  the  King  of  Prussia  angrily  expostu- 
lating with  the  captain  of  the  cutter.  Prussia  was 
clad  in  an  ordinary  fisherman's  garb,  and  seemed  what 
he  professed  to  be  by  those  garments. 

**  Damme,"  he  was  saying,  "  'tez  a  downright  shame 
that  my  family  and  I,  peaceful  folks,  have  to  'ave  our 
slumbers  disturbed  by  the  banging  of  your  practice  guns 
all  night.     Why  doan't  'ee  practice  out  at  sea  ?  " 

The  captain  of  the  cutter  was  nonplussed,  apologised 
slightly,  and  reembarked  with  his  crew.  Carter  came 
into  the  cabin  with  a  merry  twinkle  in  his  eye.  The  lads 
were  convulsed  with  laughter. 

"  And  now,"  said  the  captain,  "  I  suppose  it  is  time 
for  'ee  to  be  going,"  and  he  pressed  into  their  hands  a 
small  package,  which  later  investigation  proved  to  be  a 
jar  of  currant  wine.  On  the  highway,  Ande  told  Dick 
of  his  accident  and  his  possession  of  the  first  hurling 
baU. 

When  they  arrived  at  the  Grammar  School,  they  were 
notified  to  appear  before  the  head.  Mr.  Trewan  was 
seated  at  his  desk,  and  looked  at  the  two  culprits  very 
gravely,  for  to  be  absent  all  night  was  a  serious  offence. 
Then  the  grave  look  gave  place  to  one  of  anxious  con- 
cern, as  Ande's  bandaged  head  and  hand  caught  his 
vision.  Explanations  were  made,  the  fall  over  the  cliff, 
the  period  of  unconsciousness,  and  Dick's  search  the 
greater  part  of  the  night  for  his  friend.     The  battle  of 


172  ANDE     TREMBATH 

the  smugglers  was  not  touched,  as  they  deemed  that 
treachery  to  their  smuggler  friends. 

Mr.  Trewan  seemed  touched  by  the  accident,  and  the 
devotion  of  Dick,  and  let  them  both  off  without  even  a 
reprimand. 

That  night  there  was  another  festive  scene,  but  in 
the  fifth  form  dormitory  instead  of  in  the  dining  hall, 
and  in  it  the  currant  wine  formed  a  prominent  part. 


CHAPTER    XVIII 

THE  DUCK  CAVE  ADVENTURE 

"ANDE,  cocoa  is  pretty  dry  with  such  stuff." 

Dick's  great  head  arose  from  the  hamper  package 
which  he  was  examining,  and  he  flourished  in  one  hand 
a  roasted  chicken.  The  hamper  was  one  he  had  received 
that  very  day  from  home.  They  had  ordered  it  brought 
into  their  study  room,  and,  miracle  to  relate,  it  was  done 
without  the  knowledge  of  monitors  or  small  boys. 

"  What  do  you  propose  ?  "  said  Ande,  as  he,  too, 
began  investigation.  Dick  scratched  his  head  dubiously 
and  then  his  face  brightened. 

"  Eggs." 

"  Old  Ironsides  is  gone  daft.  Where  does  your 
majesty  expect  to  get  eggs,  and  if  ye  do  get  them,  what 
are  we  going  to  do  with  them.''  Do  ye  think  we  are 
going  to  be  egg-sucking  weasels .''  " 

Dick  grinned,  and,  as  he  tried  to  set  a  dramatic  atti- 
tude, flourished  his  arm,  "  We'll  set  forth  the  vessels  of 
silver  and  gold " 

"  Avast,  there,  my  lad,"  said  Ande,  imitating  the 
tones  of  smuggler  Jack. 

"  And  'ave  a-blooming " 

"  Cough  it  out,  my  elephantine  infant." 

"  Belshassar's  feast.     I  have  an  idea." 

173 


174  ANDE     TREMBATH 

"  Whisper  it  not  in  Gath,  publish  it  not  in  Ascalon. 
An  idea,'*  chuckling,  "  from  an  egg-regious  Lizard  phi- 
losopher." 

**  Egg-nogg,"  continued  Dick,  grinning. 

"  The  very  thing,"  said  Ande,  assuming  a  more  sober 
tone,  "  but  where?  " 

"  We  must  first  get  outside  of  town,"  said  Dick, 
soberly. 

"  No  stealing?  " 

"  No  stealing." 

"Ton  honour?" 

**  'Pon  honour." 

Forth  they  started,  cautiously  slipping  downstairs 
and  out  into  the  street,  where  both  darted  away  at  a 
rapid  pace.  On  the  highroad  that  led  to  the  little 
town  of  Prospidnic,  the  foremost  paused,  and  puffing 
like  an  engine  the  latter  caught  up  to  him. 

"  Ande,  remember  the  Truro  champion  footrace?  " 

Ande  nodded. 

"  Well,  I  believe  'ee  could  beat  the  champion ;  you 
went  so  fast  I  nigh  lost  sight  of  you." 

*'  Now,  what's  your  plan?  " 

Dick  paused  a  moment  to  gain  his  breath,  and  then 
spoke. 

"  Do  ye  remember  the  cave  near  the  Red  River?  Well, 
the  ducks  from  all  around  gather  there.  It's  public 
property,  being  on  the  free  downs.  Eggs  used  to  be 
there  in  plenty,  but  some  snivelling  squire's  steward  put 
a  door  on  it  and  now  tries  to  bag  the  industry.'* 

"  Art  sure  the  squire  didn't  buy  the  section?  " 


THE      DUCK     CAVE     ADVENTURE    175 

"  Well,  if  he  'as,  the  ducks  that  gather  there  are  not 
his,  and  'e  'asn't  a  mortgage  on  the  eggs  of  futurity  infi- 
nitum. The  squire's  steward  is  the  robber  of  public 
rights  and  human  freedom,  and " 

"  Public  eggs,"  said  Ande.  "  Down  with  the  tyrant, 
— sic  semper  tyrannis — and  up  with  the  eggs." 

Onward  they  pressed  at  a  dog-trot.  It  was  evening 
and  getting  dusk  when  they  reached  the  neighbourhood. 

"  You  go  in,  Dick,  and  I'll  mount  watchman." 

The  door  was  the  contrivance  of  a  genius,  for,  while  it 
was  designed  to  hold  out  boys  and  men,  yet  a  small 
aperture  beneath  favored  the  entrance  of  ducks  and 
other  smaller  creatures.  The  cave  was  in  the  side  of  a 
hill  near  the  Red  River  stream,  and  opened  on  the  road- 
way. 

"  I'll  go  in  as  soon  as  I  get  un  open,"  says  Dick,  as  he 
wrenched  at  the  latch.  By  dint  of  tugging  and  pulling, 
the  hasp  was  loosened,  and  in  went  Dick,  crawling  on 
his  hands  and  knees,  the  height  of  the  tunnel  not  per* 
mitting  him  to  walk  upright. 

"  Hast  found  any  ?  " 

"  No,  steward  must  'ave  been  here.  'Tis  a  most 
beastly  place  and  nigh  turns  one's  stomach,"  muttered 
Dick  from  the  interior. 

There  was  the  sound  of  a  horse's  tread  in  the  distance, 
and  the  sound  of  whistling  approaching.  Fearing  that 
the  open  door  would  excite  suspicion,  Ande  gently  closed 
it,  and  the  hasp  being  a  spring  affair,  fell  into  place. 
Then,  stealing  cautiously  behind  a  neighbouring  hedge, 
he  awaited  the  passing  of  the  traveller. 


176  ANDE    TREMBATH 

Dick,  having  made  certain  and  wealthy  discoveries  in 
the  egg  line,  his  bag  full  and  certain  pockets  bulged  to 
their  utmost,  was,  in  the  meantime,  cautiously  returning 
to  the  exit,  where,  before  he  knew  it,  he  had  bumped 
with  the  force  of  a  battering  ram  against  the  closed 
door.  It  would  not  yield  to  any  of  his  efforts,  and  then, 
thinking  Ande  was  joking  him,  he  cried  out  in  impatient 
voice,  "  Lemme  out,  Ande,  do,  I  got  eggs  a-plenty." 
Receiving  no  answer,  he  began  butting  afresh,  and 
roared  louder. 

Now  the  horseman  had  approached  and  heard  the 
infernal  roaring  and  racket  that  seemed  to  come  from 
the  very  bowels  of  the  earth.  He  was  a  simple,  unso- 
phisticated countryman,  with  an  appetite  for  ale  and  a 
passion  for  thievery  that  was  well  known  to  the  com- 
munity. Greggs,  as  he  was  surnamed,  was  not  noted  for 
his  personal  courage,  and  the  loneliness  of  the  place, 
even  in  daylight,  the  gloom  of  the  overshadowing  trees, 
and  the  dusk  of  twilight,  was  not  calculated  to  make  or 
add  any  more  heroism  to  his  nature.  Within  his  breast, 
as  within  all  countrymen  of  the  time,  and  even  still,  in 
many  districts,  there  had  constantly  been  drilled  the  old 
beliefs  in  witches,  fairies,  giants,  goblins,  and  a  host  of 
other  superstitions  with  which  Cornwall  has  been  replete 
for  ages.  It  was  no  wonder,  then,  that  when  he  came 
within  the  border  of  the  shadow,  etched  darkly  by  the 
trees,  he  whistled  louder,  and  finally  burst  into  singing 
a  hymn  tune,  to  let  all  wandering  spirits  realise  that  he 
was  a  godly  fellow,  kicking  his  steed  all  the  while  to 
hasten  its  ambling  pace. 


THE     DUCK     CAVE     ADVENTURE    177 

*'  Got  eggs — lemme  out — Ande — lemme  out !  " 

The  horse  stood  stock  still,  refusing  to  budge  an  inch 
forward,  and  trembling  in  great  terror.  In  vain  the  fear- 
ful man  began  to  belabour  and  kick  his  leathery  sides ; 
the  animal  would  not  go  forward,  but  began  to  uneasily 
sidle  around  and  around.  The  butting  and  bellowing 
of  Dick  still  continued,  with  little  intermission.  Greggs 
ceased  singing,  the  great  drops  of  perspiration  stood 
out  in  beads  on  his  face,  and  with  another  frantic  effort 
he  kicked  his  horse's  sides  in  an  agony  of  fear.  Then, 
as  the  butting  was  renewed  with  greater  force,  a  cry 
came  from  Greggs's  lips : 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Devil,  'ave  mercy  'pon  me !  " 

Dick  was  indefatigable  in  his  butting  and  bellowing, 
but  even  his  patience  began  to  give  way  and  he  began  to 
swear  in  a  mild  way. 

"  Damme,  Ande,  come  take  eggs !  " 

Each  word  was  punctuated  by  a  savage  butt  from 
Dick's  great  head  on  the  door. 

"  Oh,  no,  Mr.  Devil, — not  that — Greggs  done  no 
'arm,"  mistaking  Dick's  cry  for  the  devil's  warning 
"  Damnation  to  Greggs." 

Again  came  the  stifled  underground  roar,  coming 
forth  with  a  muffled:  "Take — (crash) — eggs — (crash) 
— damme — (crash)" — ^and  a  word  beginning  with  h. 

"  Mercy,  Mr.  Devil,  doan't  'ee  take  Greggs  there. 
Ah,  why  did  I  leave  the  hangel  tavern ! " 

"  Damnation ! " 

"  No,  no,  Mr.  Devil." 

"  A  beastly  trick,"  roared  Dick,  still  butting  away. 


178  ANDE     TREMBATH 

"Aye,  kind  sir,  I'm  guilty  of  many  beastly  tricks." 

**  Ande,  you  deceiving  cad." 

**  Yes,  I  confess  I  'ave  deceived  dad." 

*'  Here  I  am — ^beating  m'head." 

"  Aye,  I  beat  un  on  the  'ead,  too,"  moaned  Greggs. 

*'  Like  a  thieving  robber." 

*'  Yes,  Mr.  Devil,  I  robbed  un,  but  'ave  mercy.  I 
promise  to  take  un  all  back,"  groaned  Greggs,  in 
terror,  still  kicking  his  steed,  that  shied  around  and 
around. 

"  Come,  take  the  bag,  you  wretched  cad." 

*'  Aye,  I  promise ;  I'll  take  the  bag  back  to  dad." 

"  It's  full,"  roared  Dick. 

**  No,  no,  it  was  honly  'alf  full." 

**  Zounds !  "  swore  Dick. 

"  Pounds !     No  'e  wadn't ;  they  were  mostly  shillings." 

"  Let  me  out !  " 

"  No !  Doan't  'ee  come  out.  I  promise,  Mr.  Devil — 
Oh! " 

The  last  remark  of  Greggs  gave  place  to  a  shriek  of 
agonised  fear.  The  door,  under  repeated  blows  of  Dick, 
gave  way,  and  out  he  rolled  with  his  bag  of  eggs,  look- 
ing in  the  darkness  like  a  hideous  monster  come  up  from 
the  deep.  The  horse,  in  mad  terror,  wheeled  and  gal- 
loped back  to  town ;  Greggs,  praying  and  howling  like 
a  madman,  hugging  his  horse's  neck,  let  fall  his  basket 
in  the  way.  Ande  was  rolling  in  the  grass  beyond  the 
hedge,  choking  with  laughter. 

Dick  was  a  picture  of  wrath,  as  he  stood  sputtering 
by  the   roadside.     His   clothes  were  foul,   the  natural 


THE      DUCK     CAVE     ADVENTURE    179 

result  of  crawling  into  a  duck  cave,  and  he  was  appar- 
ently sick  at  the  stomach. 

"  What's  wrong,  Dick  ?  " 

"  A  beastly  trick, — ^phew — ^ah,  egg — phew — ah,  in 
mouth, — phew — ah — addled — broke." 

Ande  roared  and  roared  with  shrieking  laughter. 
Dick  had  filled  the  bag  and  his  pockets,  and  finding  one 
extra  one,  had  placed  it  in  his  mouth  for  safe  keeping, 
just  before  the  latch  gave  way. 

"  Well,"  said  Ande,  "  they  aren't  all  broke,  and  the 
most  must  be  good." 

Dick,  at  first  was  very  much  incensed,  but  Ande,  while 
he  helped  to  clean  him  up  at  the  Red  River,  explained 
how  he  had  closed  the  door  to  avert  suspicion.  Dick 
was  mollified  when  the  description  of  Greggs's  terrors 
was  related,  and  laughed  a  faint  laugh  that  partly 
brought  back  his  good  humour. 

It  appeared  that  Greggs  had  ill-treated  his  poor  old 
father,  and  had  robbed  him  of  some  of  his  savings. 
Taking  warning  from  the  supposed  admonition  of  his 
Satanic  majesty,  he  afterward  treated  his  father  with 
the  greatest  consideration,  refunding  the  shillings  he 
had  stolen.  Nothing,  however,  could  induce  him  to  pass 
that  way  again,  and  the  story  getting  wind  and  becom- 
ing much  exaggerated,  few  would  trust  themselves  in 
that  locality  after  dusk. 

"  Whew !  Look  here,  Dick."  Ande  picked  up  the 
basket  and  drew  from  it  a  small  bottle  of  rye. 

"  The  very  thing  we  need,"  gasped  Dick,  "  the  egg- 
nog  shall  become  punch." 


180  ANDE     TREMBATH 

"  I  don't  know,  Dick.  You  see,  if  we  take  it,  it  '11  be 
stealing.  The  school  rules  are  against  it,  and  no  matter 
how  sparingly  and  temperately  a  fellow  uses  it  no  allow- 
ance is  made." 

"  Well,  if  we  give  it  back  to  Greggs,  it  '11  do  'im  more 
harm  than*  it  will  us ;  then,  we  can  send  Greggs  the  cost 
of  it,  so  it  won't  be  stealing,  and  as  to  school  rules,  why, 
we  are  breaking  school  rules  now  by  being  away,"  said 
Dick,  reassuringly. 

"  'Twon't  do,  Dick ;  the  breaking  of  one  law  doesn't 
justify  the  breaking  of  another.     We'll  let  it  behind." 

"  Very  well,"  said  Dick,,  but  at  the  same  moment,  con- 
cealed by  the  dusk  of  the  evening,  he  slipped  the  flask 
into  his  pocket. 

"  You'll  'ave  to  *cave'  about  getting  the  eggs  in," 
said  Ande,  as  they  trotted  along  home,  back  to  Helston. 

"  That's,  what's  worrying  me,"  said  Dick. 

"  I  have  it,"  said  Ande,  and  the  plan  seemed  so  feasible 
that  he  resumed  his  old  bantering  tone.  "  Dick,  old 
lad,  congratulate  your  friend  on  being  a  man  of  infinite 
resources.  I  have  a  plan,  my  Ajax  of  egg-hunting 
renown  and  Lucifer  reputation." 

"  Huh,"  growled  Dick,  "  we're  getting  near  town." 

"  A  rope — the  hamper  rope,"  said  Ande ;  "  that  beast, 
Creakle,  will  be  on  guard  within,  or  Tenny.  I  go  in 
empty-handed, — see — you  stay  out  below  the  study  win- 
dow, in  the  dark  angle ;  I  let  down  the  rope, — presto — 
up  come  the  eggs.  You  come  in  empty-handed, — see  ?  " 
and  Ande  gave  Dick  a  nudge, 

Dick  brightened  up  perceptibly. 


THE     DUCK     CAVE     ADVENTURE    181 

"  But  'ow  to  get  you  in  with  that  pungent,  ducky 
aroma,  without  exciting  the  blatant  curiosity  of  Creakle, 
or  the  sharp  smellers  of  Sherwood — um — das  ist  die 
frage.     Whew!     What  a  beastly  odour." 

Dick  looked  worried  and  down-hearted. 

"  But  cheer  up,  Dick,  you  can't  help  it,  and  we'll  get 
you  in  some  how,  never  fear.     The  plan  is  sure  to  work." 

The  plan  did  work  like  a  charm,  and  soon  they  were 
in  the  comfortable  study,  Dick  clothed  in  clean  gar- 
ments, and  the  steaming  egg-nogg  and  eatables  before 
them.  The  evening's  adventure,  the  terror  of  Greggs, 
the  chicken,  and  other  viands,  made  the  evening  pass 
pleasantly  by.  During  the  close  of  the  feast,  Tenny 
rapped,  but  was  not  let  in. 

"  Now  Creakle  will  be  next,"  said  Ande,  "  and  we  can't 
keep  a  monitor  out.     Away  with  the  things !  " 

The  things  were  hurriedly  placed  away,  the  Virgils 
opened,  and  with  lexicons  in  hand,  they  seemed  busily 
and  studiously  engaged  when  steps  were  heard  advancing 
quickly  along  the  corridor.  The  door  was  swung  open, 
it  being  unbarred,  and  in  stalked  Sherwood  and  Creakle. 
The  latter  had  a  cunning  twinkle  in  his  eye;  the  former 
with  grave,  severe  countenance. 

"  Gentlemen,"  began  Sherwood,  in  stern  voice,  but  he 
went  no  further.  Ande  looked  up  with  a  mild,  reproving 
eye. 

"  I  believe  no  student  is  to  be  disturbed  in  the  evening 
study  hour,  except  upon  probable  cause  of  misdemean- 
our ;  I  believe  that  is  an  unwritten  law." 

"  Quite   right,   gentlemen,   excuse  me,"   and   Master 


182  ANDE     TREMBATH 

Sherwood  backed  out,  followed  by  Creakle.  Humilia- 
tion is  a  poor  word  to  express  the  feelings  of  the  under- 
master.  Creakle  could  be  heard  expostulating  with  him 
in  the  corridor. 

"  I  saw  them  both,  on  the  run  out  of  town,  and  saw 
them  enter  on  their  return,  and  there  was  a  smell  of 
ducks,  sir,  on  Mr.  Thomas's  clothes." 

*'  Nonsense,"  said  Master  Sherwood,  "  how  should  it 
not  be  manifest  to  me  also.'* "  Sherwood  had  not 
thought  of  the  possibility  of  Thomas  changing  his 
clothes. 

Creakle  still  protested. 

*'  Absurd !  Why,  sir,  do  you  know  you  are  accusing 
the  head  of  the  fifth.?  "  said  Master  Sherwood,  exasper- 
ated. "  Do  you  know  your  misplaced  zeal  has  involved 
me  in  censure  that  was  just,  and  a  rebuke  from  fifth 
form  boys  that  was,  to  say  the  least,  humiliating  ?  You, 
sir,  should  have  known  better.  There  must  have  been 
an  upheaval  of  latent  stupidity  within  you  to  thus  bring 
disgrace  upon  both  master  and  school.  Sir,  how  will 
the  public  esteem  our  reputation  when  they  are  informed 
that  master  and  monitor  are  banded  together  to  dis- 
turb the  study  hours,  and  falsely  accuse  honourable 
students." 

"  I  thought,"  began  Creakle,  humbly. 

*'  You  thought,  sir ;  what  right  had  you  to  think  ? 
You  must  know  before  recklessly  accusing  honourable 
students  and  bringing  disgrace,  not  on  me  alone,  but  on 
the  head." 

Master  Sherwood,  in  high  dudgeon,  went  to  his  study, 


THE     DUCK     CAVE     ADVENTURE    183 

and  Creakle,  crestfallen,  retired  to  the  form  room,  where 
he  had  charge  over  the  smaller  form  study  hours. 

"  Now,"  said  Dick,  "  that  spying  cad  must  be  brought 
down  to  give  him  some  sparks  of  honour." 

"What's  the  plan?" 

Dick,  for  the  first  time,  refused  to  divulge  to  his  chum 
his  course,  but  divesting  himself  of  his  shoes  cautiously 
slipped  down  to  the  cloakroom  below. 

That  night,  as  Creakle  was  donning  his  gown,  which 
he  always  left  in  the  cloakroom,  there  arose  a  fearful 
uproar  in  the  corridor  above.  Hastening  upstairs  with 
full  speed,  he  tripped  over  an  invisible  something  and 
fell  with  a  crash  to  the  floor.  Instantly  doors  opened, 
lights  appeared,  and  a  confused  sound  of  many  voices, 
and  in  the  midst  of  all,  along  stalked  Master  Sherwood. 

"  What  is  the  meaning  of  this,  Creakle  ?  "  he  asked  of 
that  worthy,  who  was  still  on  the  floor,  dazed  with  his 
fall. 

« I  fell,  sir." 

*'  You  did,  and  pray  why  ?  "  with  biting  sarcasm. 

Just  then  he  smelt  the  fumes  of  rye  on  the  garb  of 
the  miserable  Creakle,  and  his  face  grew  dark  with 
severity. 

"  You  have  been  drinking,  sir?  " 

*'  I  have  not,"  stammered  the  monitor. 

"  Don't  give  me  the  lie,  sir ;  you  are  reeking  with  the 
fumes  of  an  ale-house.  Ugh !  you  putrescent  miscreant ! 
This  is  a  case  for  the  head.  You  will  appear  before  him 
to-morrow.  Such  a  disgrace!  In  what  light  will  the 
public   view   this   scandalous    demoralisation?      Outra- 


184  ANDE     TREMBATH 

geous,  sir!  This  is  the  second  offence  to-night.  I 
thought  you  were  inebriated, — intoxicated — in  short, 
what  the  vulgar  tongue  calls  drunk,  when  you  brought 
me  a  siUy,  drivelling  tale  of  a  misdemeanour  of  two  hon- 
ourable students,  and  now  you  make  it  evident  by  stag- 
gering around,  sprawling,  and  destroying  the  peace  and 
sobriety  of  the  school !  " 

"  I— I— I  am  not  drunk." 

"  I  call  you  all  to  witness  the  state  of  filthy  inebriety 
of  this  fellow,"  said  Sherwood,  with  cold  dignity. 

"  What  do  you  say,  sir  ?  "  said  the  tutor  to  Dick. 

*'  He  smells  horrid,  sir,"  said  that  worthy. 

"  Ah !  You  are  all  witnesses,"  said  Sherwood,  and 
then,  turning  to  the  dejected  Creakle,  "  in  with  you  to 
your  study,  and  relieve  honourable  men  from  the  abhor- 
rent, filthy  odours  that  assail  decent   olfactory  organs." 

Mr.  Sherwood  retired  in  dignified  silence,  and  Creakle 
slunk  into  his  study. 

"  Dick,  what  is  the  moral.?  "  said  Ande,  after  they  had 
reentered  their  study. 

"  The  revenge  of  diabolical  Ajax.?  " 

"  No,  the  moral  is  this :  the  man  who  takes  delight  in 
spying  on  others  and  revelling  in  their  disgrace,  even 
though  he  be  a  monitor,  shall  be  beaten  with  his  own 
stick." 


CHAPTER     XIX 

creakle's  revenge 

**  IT'S  true ;  I  heard  it  myself  when  I  was  over  that  way 
this  last  week,"  said  Creakle,  nodding  his  head  affirma- 
tively. 

"  Who  was  it  told  you  ?  "  said  Tenny. 

"  A  fellow  called  Sloan,  a  big,  honest  sort  of  a  fellow 
in  the  employ  of  the  Lanyans.  He's  a  sort  of  an  under- 
strapper to  young  Master  Richard,  who  will  be  gradu- 
ated soon  from  Eton  College." 

"  What  did  he  say?  " 

*'  That  Trembath's  father  was  a  traitor  to  the  gov- 
ernment; that  he  turned  traitor  in  the  late  war  with 
America,  leastways  he  has  not  shown  his  face  here- 
abouts since  the  war.  Some  think  he  is  dead,  and  others 
think  he  was  a  traitor,  and  daren't  show  his  face  in 
England,  but  is  living  in  exile  somewhere  in  America. 
Sloan — I  think  his  first  name  is  Bob — told  me  himself 
that  Richard  and  his  father,  Sir  James,  both  believe  that 
he  was  a  traitor." 

"  No  proofs  but  their  thoughts,"  said  Tenny,  doubt- 
fully. 

"  Well,  it  is  the  current  belief  of  the  whole  neighbour- 
hood, and  then,  there  is  strong  proof  of  his  grandfather 
being  a  traitor.     There  is  no  doubt  about  that  at  all. 

185 


186  ANDE     TREMBATH 

Bob  told  me  that  it  was  through  the  patriotism  of  Rich- 
ard's grandfather  that  the  matter  was  called  to  the 
attention  of  Newcastle,  and  Trembath  Manor  was  con- 
fiscated." 

"  How  ?     What  was  the  treason  ?  " 

"  Well,  he  was  a  soldier  in  the  war  of  England 
against  France,  in  the  colonies.  He  was  in  Braddock's 
defeat,  and  after  that  battle  he  turned  for  the  French. 
He  was  with  them  for  upwards  of  a  year  or  so,  and  no 
one  knows  what  harm  he  did  during  that  time.  They 
say  he  consorted  with  the  French  of  Quebec,  was  a  spy 
in  their  employ,  and  was  afterwards  raised  to  some  rank 
as  an  officer." 

"  A  traitor  to  his  own  land  and  his  own  people ! " 
exclaimed  Tenny. 

"  Yes,  and  that  isn't  all.  They  say  he  became  as 
bloody  a  savage  as  the  Indians.  I  suppose  he  received 
a  good  reward  from  the  French.  Some  say  he  was  an 
aide  of  Montcalm." 

"  And  how  was  he  found  out  ?  " 

'*  He  was  shot  in  the  van  of  a  fight  between  Arm- 
strong's troops  and  the  French.  They  found  his  body 
and  recognised  it  by  letters  from  England.  He  had  on 
a  French  officer's  uniform  and  a  commission  in  the  French 
army  in  his  pocket.  They  brought  him  home,  and  Sir 
Richard  Lanyan  brought  the  facts  to  the  knowledge  of 
the  government,  and  the  Trembath  home  was  confiscated, 
and  they  were  driven  out.     It  served  them  right,  I  say." 

"  That  it  did,"  asserted  Tenny. 

"  And  here's  one  of  the  family,  this  Ande,  that's  lord- 


CREAKLE'S     REVENGE  18T 

ing  it  over  us.  I  believe  it  was  he  that  soaked  my  gown 
in  that  beastly  rye  and  got  me  in  such  a  scrape  with 
the  head." 

Tenny  smiled,  for  he  had  no  love  for  Creakle,  except 
as  a  tool. 

"  It  was  no  laughing  matter,  I  can  tell  you.  The 
head  nearly  fired  me,"  said  Creakle,  a  little  sullenly. 

"  Come,  come,  no  offence.  I  have  as  much  reason  to 
dislike  Trembath  as  you  have.  Didn't  he  sneak  into 
being  head  of  the  fifth  through  meanness,  getting  up 
and  reciting,  when  all  the  rest  of  the  fellows  had  agreed 
to  refuse  to  recite.  He  has  been  there  ever  since,  but  he 
never  would  have  got  there  if  he  hadn't  turned  traitor  to 
his  form,  like  his  father  and  grandfather  to  the  govern- 
ment.    Blood  will  tell." 

"  And,  I  say,  we  ought  to  let  the  fellows  know,  and 
pull  him  down  a  peg  or  two.  Let  him  know  his  place 
among  the  sons  of  honourable  Englishmen.  He  ought 
to  be  sent  to  Coventry,  I  say." 

"  Come  over  here  and  we'll  talk  it  over  with  one  or 
two  of  the  fellows,"  said  Tenny. 

A  little  coterie  of  fellows  of  the  fifth  form  were  soon 
assembled  around  Tenny  and  Creakle,  on  the  Bowling 
Green,  and  their  nodding  heads  and  colloquy  portended 
mischief  to  the  head  of  the  fifth.  Tenny  had  never  for- 
gotten the  way  in  which  he  was  shouldered  out  of  the 
headship  of  the  fifth  form,  and  Creakle  was  burning 
with  more  hate  since  his  late  disgrace,  which  he  blamed 
on  Ande.  Now,  had  it  depended  upon  Creakle  alone, 
nothing  would  have  come  of  the  disclosure  of  the  stain 


188  ANDE     TREMBATH 

upon  Ande's  name,  but  when  Tenny  took  up  the  matter 
it  was  eagerly  listened  to.  The  latter  portrayed  in 
indignant  tones  the  treachery  of  Ande's  family  to  the 
government.  Should  they  consort  with  him,  after  this 
knowledge?  It  was  all  well  enough,  as  long  as  they 
did  not  know  the  family  disgrace.  But,  now  they 
knew,  they  ought  to  show  their  abhorrence  of  such 
conduct. 

He  ought  to  be  expelled  from  the  school,  but  they 
couldn't  do  that,  but  they  could,  at  least,  debar  him  from 
fellowship  and  keep  him  from  the  leadership  in  the  form 
that  he  had  always  maintained.  The  son  and  grandson 
of  a  traitor  shall  not  lead  us  in  our  sports.  He  was  a 
traitor  at  heart,  like  his  people  before  him,  for  had  he 
not  gained  the  headship  of  the  form  through  an  act  of 
treason  to  his  fellows,  and  his  remarks  of  the  injustice 
of  the  king  also  bore  testimony.  Such  was  the  line  of 
Tenny's  sophistry,  in  which  Creakle  was  a  second. 

One  or  two  of  the  form  demurred,  with  the  remark  that 
it  was  hard  for  a  son  to  be  villified  on  account  of  the 
errors  of  his  fathers. 

"  I'll  prove"  the  contrary  from  the  Bible,"  said  Tenny. 
"  Aren't  the  Jews  to-day  despised,  and  righteously,  for 
their  treason  to  their  king,  and  doesn't  the  Bible  say 
that  the  sins  of  the  fathers  shall  be  visited  upon  the 
children  ?  " 

The  demurrers  were  overborne  by  Tenny's  reasoning. 
Dick,  being  so  close  a  friend  of  Ande,  was  not  taken  into 
the  conference,  but  he  was  not  so  slow  in  taking  in  the 
cold  demeanour  of  the  students  to  Ande,  and  even  to  him- 


They  say  you  are  the  son  of  a  traitor ' ' 


CREAKLE»S    REVENGE  189 

self,  in  a  milder  degree.  Henceforth  there  were  no 
games  in  which  Ande  participated.  If  he  sought 
entrance  to  a  game,  the  game  was  instantly  adjourned, 
and  he  found  himself  left  more  and  more  to  himself. 
He,  as  well  as  Dick,  was  at  a  loss  to  know  the  reason  of 
the  altered  manner  of  treatment.  The  revelation  came 
to  Dick. 

He  was  going  to  enter  a  game  of  hurling  on  the 
Bowling  Green,  when  Creakle  objected. 

"  Why  ?  "  said  Dick,  in  amazement. 

"  Because  you  are  the  friend  of  the  son  of  a  traitor. 
His  father  and  his  grandfather  were  traitors  to  the  gov- 
ernment, and  he's  a  traitbr  himself,"  sneered  Creakle. 

"Who?" 

"  The  Dane,"  said  Creakle,  with  another  sneer.  "  All 
the  fellows  have  refused  to  have  anything  to  do  with 
him.  He's  been  sent  to  Coventry.  He's  a  traitor's  son, 
and  the  blot  of  treason  hangs  to  his  name." 

"  It's  a  lie,"  said  Dick,  hotly ;  "  he's  not  a  traitor's 
son,"  and  with  a  back-handed  slap  of  his  hand,  he  sent 
Creakle  reeling. 

"  It's  true,"  said  Tenny,  as  he  edged  in  among  the 
other  lads.  "  All  the  lads  of  his  home  place  will  tell  you 
the  same  thing,  and  you'll  be  treated  the  same  way  as  we 
are  treating  him,  if  you  don't  cut  him." 

Dick,  scarcely  believing  his  ears,  hurried  off  to  his 
friend,  Ande,  bursting  into  the  study  with  a  bound. 

"  Do  ye  know  why  the  fellows  have  cut  you  and  me?  " 

"No." 

"  Why,  they  say  you  are  the  son  of  a  traitor.     That 


190  ANDE     TREMBATH 

your  father  and  grandfather  were  traitors  to  the  gov- 
ernment. Creakle  said  so,  and  I  give  him  a  back-handed 
slap  that  sent  him  some  feet.  It  was  Creakle  who  told 
me." 

**  The  contemptible  dog ! "  exclaimed  Ande,  with  a 
flash  of  the  eye.  "  It's  not  true,  though  the  circum- 
stances look  the  other  way.  They  were  both  honourable 
men." 

'*  You  needn't  tell  me,"  said  Dick.  "  I  believe  if  your 
father  and  grandfather  were  like  you,  there  couldn't  be 
a  bit  of  treason  in  them.  I  told  Creakle  it  was  a  lie,  and 
then  Tenny  spoke  up  and  said  that  it  was  true,  and  that 
if  I  didn't  cut  you  the  same  as  the  rest  of  them  are 
doing,  they  would  cut  me.  They  have  sent  us  to  Cov- 
entry." 

"  Dick,  you  'ave  been  a  good  friend  to  me,  and  you  did 
right  in  treating  Creakle  as  you  did,  for  I  should  have 
done  the  same.  The  old  blot  that  drove  me  from  my 
native  village  will  drive  me  from  here  as  well.  It  is  the 
curse  that  has  been  on  our  family  since  my  grandfath- 
er's death,  but  you  have  no  hand  in  this.  You  had 
better  cut  me,  or  they  will  make  your  life  here  as  unbear- 
able as  mine.  I'll  move  into  a  study  of  my  own.  It  is 
for  your  own  interest  that  I  am  looking." 

"  Stuff !  Let  them  send  me  to  Coventry  if  they  will. 
I  don't  believe  there  is  any  truth  in  the  rumour,  and  we 
don't  part  like  that.  Didn't  you  save  my  life  in  the 
smugglers'  battle,  and  I'm  going  to  stick  to  you  through 
all  this  Coventry  business.  Put  it  there,"  and  Dick 
stretched  his   great  hand   across  the  study   table   and 


CREAKLE'S     REVENGE  191 

grasped  the  hand  of  Ande  and  shook  it  warmly.  There 
was  a  grateful  look  in  the  latter's  eyes. 

*'  You  have  done  too  many  things  for  me,  to  turn  in 
with  a  rabble  like  that.  You  have  changed  old  Dullhead 
into  a  brighter  man,  and  made  him  Old  Ironsides,  and 
we'll  let  them  know  that  Old  Ironsides  is  going  to  stick 
to  you.  Why,  Ande,  you  and  I  could  clean  out  the 
whole  crew  in  a  personal  fight  on  the  Bowling  Green,  and 
— zounds !  I'd  like  to  do  it." 

"  And  they  would  gain  their  desires.  We'd  be 
expelled." 

"  Never  thought  of  that." 

**  It's  what  would  happen,  though." 

There  was  silence  in  the  study  for  the  space  of  half 
an  hour,  during  which  they  laboured  on  the  coming  les- 
sons.    Then,  it  was  Dick,  who  broke  the  silence. 

"  How  did  it  happen  that  the  idea  of  treason  got  out. 
I  don't  believe  it,  but  I'm  a  bit  curious." 

"  It's  a  long  story,  but  I'll  tell  you  some  day,  Dick, 
and  let  you  see  some  documents  that  I  have  still  in  my 
possession.     There's  the  gong." 

A  deep  sound  of  a  gong,  indicating  the  dinner  hour 
in  the  dining-room  below,  broke  the  silence,  and  they 
hurried  forth  to  its  summons. 

After  the  discovery  of  Dick,  and  the  encounter  with 
Creakle,  neither  he  nor  Ande  sought  the  games  of  the 
others.  If  they  needed  recreation,  they  took  it  in  long 
walks  along  the  sea-coast  or  in  the  country.  The 
enmity  of  Creakle  and  Tenny  was  shown  in  many  petty 
ways.     They  were  not   content  with  sending  to  Cov- 


192  ANDE     TREMBATH 

entry  alone.  Once,  on  their  return,  they  found  a  pla- 
card on  their  study  door  with  the  sentence  of,  "  The 
Home  of  Treason,"  written  on  it,  but  this  did  not  stir 
the  wrath  of  Ande  as  much  as  a  later  placard,  a  rude 
sketch  of  a  soldier  with  red  hair,  hands  bound,  eyes 
blindfolded,  and  before  liim  a  file  of  soldiers  with 
weapons  presented,  ready  to  fire,  and  near  at  hand  a 
grave  and  a  coffin.  With  a  burst  of  passion,  he  tore  it 
down  and  ground  it  under  his  heel. 


**  And  how  is  my  knight  progressing  in  the  tourna- 
ment of  the  schools  ?  " 

It  was  in  the  gardens  of  Trembath  Manor,  and  it  was 
Mistress  Alice  who  was  speaking.  She  was  clad  in  light 
spring  garb  that  wonderfully  set  off  her  trim  figure  and 
brought  out  into  greater  prominence  the  yv^avy  darkness 
of  her  hair,  and  depth  of  her  eyes,  that  seemed  deeper 
and  brighter  under  the  mellow  sunlight  without.  She 
was  standing  near  one  of  her  favourite  rose-beds,  and 
near  her  was  the  tall  form  of  Ande  Trembath,  the  few 
months  at  school  adding  new  dignity  and  age  to  his 
features.  He  was  glad  to  be  there,  near  her,  and  to  be 
called  "  her  knight,"  as  she  had  called  him  on  the  last 
Christmas  eve.  He  was  home  on  a  short  vacation,  and  it 
seemed  wonderfully  pleasant  to  be  with  her  in  the  gar- 
dens of  old  Trembath,  especially  after  the  dreary  atmo- 
sphere of  the  school,  rendered  more  dreary  and  wretched 
by  the  uncharitable  spirit  of  his  fellows  of  the  fifth; 
to  watch  the  dark  eyes  kindling  and  rekindling  at  some 


CREAKLE'S     REVENGE  193 

jest,  and  then  the  sober  shadow  at  the  recital  of  the 
escapage  of  the  smugglers.  He  told  her  all,  the  merry 
adventure  at  the  du-ck  cave,  the  hurling  game,  and  then 
the  sending  to  Coventry.  Yes,  this  was  going  to  be  his 
last  year  at  the  school.  The  curse  of  treason  had  fol- 
lowed him,  and  even  his  friend,  Dick,  was  involved  in 
the  petty  spirit  of  malice  of  the  students.  He  was  dis- 
couraged, and  she  knew  it.  His  face  betokened  it  as 
he  related  the  sending  to  Coventry. 

"  Do  you  know  that  my  knight  has  forgotten  some  of 
his  pledges  made  last  Christmas  eve?  "  she  said,  and  her 
eyes  flashed  once  more,  back  from  the  sombreness  brought 
into  them  by  the  Coventry  recital. 

"  How?  " 

"  I  said  that  the  knight  that  I  should  admire  would 
not  despair  at  a  few  diflSculties,  and  my  knight  said  that 
he  would  not." 

"  Neither  am  I,"  doubtfully. 

**  Your  very  tone  indicates  the  contrary." 

"  You  think  it  best  to  remain  and  stand  all  taunts  and 
malice  ?  " 

"  Assuredly ;  and  will  not  that  be  the  very  best  way 
to  prepare  yourself  for  the  future  battles.  Is  it  brave 
to  run  away  from  a  foe?  " 

There  was  a  flush  on  the  face  of  the  youth. 

**  I  see  you  are  right.  I  shall  stay  and  fight  it  out, 
and  they  will  see  who  grows  tired  of  the  Coventry  busi- 
ness first.  You  give  me  the  same  advice  as  Parson 
Trant.     He  said  stand  firm,  and  stick  to  the  school." 

"  Parson  Trant  is  generally  right." 


194  ANDE    TREMBATH 

"  And  so  are  you." 

"  Of  course,  in  this  case,  I  am  right,  but  at  times,  I 
suppose,  I  am  wrong." 

"For  instance.?  " 

"  Well,  my  father  has  broached  a  plan  that  lies  close 
to  his  heart.  You  know  the  Lanyan  estate  lies  close  to 
ours,  and  he  is  anxious  for  me  to  be  settled  in  life  soon." 

A  cold,  icy  hand  seemed  to  clutch  his  heart  and  hold 
it  in  a  vice-hke  grip.  The  blood  forsook  his  features, 
for  a  moment,  as  he  listened. 

"  And  he  ?  "  interrogatively. 

**  And  he  was  thinking  how  well  the  two  would  go 
together,  and  that  Lady  Alice  would  not  sound  so  bad. 
Then  it  would  place  our  family  among  the  highest  in 
the  county.  I  thought  at  first  that  it  was  all  foolish- 
ness, but  I  suppose  he  is  right  and  I  am  wrong." 

"  No,  no,  no,  you  are  right.  You  must  not  sacrifice 
yourself  to  a  whim." 

"  No,  I  am  wrong,"  pensively. 

*'  You  are  right.  It  must  not  be,"  and  then  at  the 
remembrance  of  Master  Richard  and  Sir  James,  he 
Hushed  an  angry  hue  and  clenched  his  fists  tightly. 

"  Must  not  he?  "  archly. 

"  Aye,  it  shall  not  be." 

"Why.?" 

"  Because  I  say  it  shall  not  be." 

**  Indeed,  since  when  have  I  had  a  new  master,  or  a 
master  at  all,  for  that  matter.?  " 

There  was  a  rebellious  tone  in  her  voice,  and  a  quick, 
tumultuous  beating  of  her  heart.     To  be  told  she  should 


CREAKLE'S    REVENGE  195 

not  do  this  or  that  was  something  new  to  her,  the  mis- 
tress of  the  Manor,  and  yet,  his  tone,  his  manner  of 
speaking,  that  masterful  way  of  asserting  himself — she 
liked  him  better  for  it. 

*'  I  say  it  shall  not  be,"  doggedly. 

"And  why?" 

"  Because — because — ^because — I  am  your  knight," 
he  said,  desperately,  "  and  I  cannot  see  any  harm  come 
to  you,  and  your  happiness  wrecked  by  marrying  such. 
If  you  only  knew  the  Lanyans  as  I  know  them." 

"  Perhaps  my  happiness  would  not  be  wrecked.'* 

"  Ah,  but  it  shall  not  be.     It  must  not  be." 

**  You  have  given  me  no  reason  why  it  should  not. 
Should  not  a  child  obey  her  father.?  " 

Her  eyes  were  glowing  mischievously. 

"  Alice,  Alice,  if  you  will  not  listen  to  reason,  it  is 
because  I  say  so,  and  I — I — I — love  you.  Oh!  Alice,  I 
have  wanted  to  tell  you  so  long — ^but  the  stain  of  treason 
— but  give  me  at  least  hope  that  if  the  stain  be  removed 
— and  it  shall — ^that  I  shall  not  love  you  in  vain." 

The  hue  of  Mistress  Alice's  cheeks  rivalled  her  own 

roses.     She  fought  down  the  exultant,  happy  feeling 

within,  and  strove  to  be  her  former  self ;  yes,  even  strove 

I  to  be  angry,  but  what  woman  is  angry  when  told  that  she 

is  loved. 

"  There  is  father.  Calm  yourself,  or  he  will  notice 
you." 

Coming  over  the  green  terrace  was  the  stout  frame 
of  old  Squire  Vivian,  most  unwelcome  sight  at  this  hour, 
at  least  to  Ande.     His  question  was  doomed  to  remain 


196  ANDE     TREMBATH 

unanswered.  The  squire  greeted  him  in  his  bluff,  cheery 
manner,  asked  him  of  the  school  and  his  progress.  The 
excellent  reports  he  had  received  from  Master  Trewan 
had  inclined  him  a  little  more  favourably  to  his  protege. 
Taking  advantage  of  the  presence  of  her  father.  Mis- 
tress Alice  slipped  away  and  hid  herself  in  the  privacy 
of  her  own  rooms. 


CHAPTER    XX 

EXAMINATIONS ^ADEIFT    ON    THE    DEEP 

Examinations  were  coming  on  apace.  The  end  of 
the  half  was  near.  Prizes  had  been  estabHshed  by  gentle- 
men of  the  neighbourhood,  and  the  diligent  ones  were 
striving  for  them  with  assiduous  application  to  study. 
The  sports  of  the  students  had  little  attraction  for  Ande 
now.  Even  had  he  not  been  sent  to  Coventry,  he  would 
have  avoided  them  for  the  extra  chance  it  gave  him  for 
work.  He  was  determined  to  win  the  prize  for  general 
scholarship  in  the  fifth.  There  were  others  working  for 
the  same  goal,  among  them,  Tenny,  the  former  head. 
Tenny's  ambition  was  of  a  double  nature.  Not  only 
must  he  win  the  general  prize,  but  also  the  silver  medal 
for  the  best  essay.  The  days  sped  rapidly  by,  and  soon 
came  the  day  of  examination.  The  essays  had  been 
handed  in  to  a  special  committee,  some  time  previous, 
under  various  nom-de-plumes. 

Most  of  the  examinations  were  oral,  and  occupied  some 
time.  Generally,  the  master  would  put  the  questions, 
but  at  times  one  of  the  visiting  gentlemen  would  throw 
in  a  question  bearing  on  the  special  subject  under  con- 
sideration. 

The  contest  of  general  scholarship  in  the  fifth  was 

197 


198  ANDE     TREMBATH 

manifestly  between  two  students, — the  old  and  the  new 
head,  and  even  after  it  was  over,  none  could  prophesy 
how  the  judges  would  decide.  The  decision  came,  after 
a  brief  pause  and  consultation. 

The  Reverend  Mr.  Trewan  arose,  and  after  clearing 
his  throat  several  times  began  by  complimenting  the 
students. 

"  I  am  pleased  to  find  the  excellent  form  in  which  most 
of  our  scholars  have  passed  this  examination.  The 
marks  are  far  above  the  average  of  the  half.  I  am  glad 
to  state  that  the  whole  form  will  enter  the  sixth  at  the 
next  half  without  a  single  exception." 

There  was  a  little  cheer  from  the  mass  of  students. 

"  In  reference  to  the  prize  for  the  general  scholarship, 
there  are  two  between  which  there  has  been  a  close  con- 
test. For  quite  a  time  one  was  in  the  forerank  and  the 
other  close  behind.  Then  the  marks  were  even.  Then 
the  second  forged  ahead.  Master  Tenny,"  and  the  head 
paused  to  clear  his  throat,  while  Tenny  flushed  with 
gratification,  "  your  marks  have  been  admirable ;  they 
were  far  ahead  of  your  average  during  the  year.  For 
quite  a  time  you  were  ahead,  then  even  with  another. 
Master  Trembath,  then  Master  Trembath  gained  first 
place.  The  prize  goes  to  him,  however,  who  has  the 
highest  average  of  the  whole  examination,  and  I,  there- 
fore, declare  Master  Trembath  the  winner  by  four 
points ;  and  the  committee  has  given  Master  Tenny  the 
highest    honourable  mention." 

The  master  paused  and  extended  twenty  pounds  to 
Ande,  the  prize  for  general  scholarship.     Dick  was  the 


EXAMINATIONS  199 

first  to  congratulate  him,  and  was  followed  by  one  or  two 
others,  notwithstanding  the  decree  of  Coventry.  Tenny 
maintained  his  silence  in  bitter  chagrin.  He  had  hopes 
of  the  essay  prize,  however,  the  chairman  of  which  com- 
mittee now  arose  to  report. 

"  We  find,"  he  said,  after  a  little  preliminary  speech, 
**  that  six  of  the  essays  were  most  laudable,  but  out  of 
them  two  were  selected  for  their  excellence — one  on 
account  of  the  beauty  of  the  language,  the  other  on 
account  of  its  vivid  realism  and  striking,  rhetorical  fig- 
ures. The  one  written  by  Hector  is  admirable  in  word- 
ing and  has  many  fine  points,  but  lacks  the  realism  and 
subject  matter  and  thought  of  the  other.  We  have 
decided  that  the  silver  medal  goes  to  him  who  has  adopted 
the  certainly  inappropriate  and  inapplicable  nom-de- 
plume  of  Asinus  Cornubiensus." 

There  was  a  pause,  and  the  students  at  length,  realis- 
ing the  meaning  of  the  Latin  nom-de-plume,  which  was 
the  "  Ass,  or  Donkey  of  Cornwall,"  burst  into  a  roar  of 
laughter. 

"  Certainly,"  resumed  the  gentleman,  "  this  Asinus 
Cornubiensus  has  demonstrated  a  grasp  of  thought, 
power  of  language,  and  vivid  description  that  belies  his 
humble  name,  and  renders  him  worthy  of  the  prize. 
Stand  up,  Asinus  Cornubiensus,  and  receive  the  silver 
medal." 

Dick  stood  up,  much  confused,  and  received  the 
prize.  There  was  a  cheer.  Even  Ande  was  astonished, 
and  greeted  his  old  friend  with  more  respect.  It  is 
needless  to  say  that  Hector  was  Tenny,  who  was  bub- 


200  ANDE    TREMBATH 

bling  over  with  rage  and  mortification,  to  think  that  he 
was  not  only  beaten  in  the  general  prize  but  also  in  the 
essay,  and  in  the  latter  case  by  one  whom  he  had  always 
considered  a  stupid  dunce,  the  worst  scholar  in  the 
form. 

The  rest  of  the  day  was  dedicated  to  the  examina- 
tions of  the  sixth  and  the  distribution  of  prizes  in  that 
form.  Our  two  prize  winners  of  the  fifth  wended  their 
way  out  from  the  school  and  hied  away  from  the  town 
to  one  of  their  accustomed  haunts,  near  the  coast,  high 
up  on  the  cliffs.  Here,  throwing  themselves  down  on 
the  long  grass,  they  watched,  for  the  time,  the  active 
sea-birds  and  the  flitting  sails  far  out  on  the  channel. 
At  length,  turning  from  the  contemplation  of  these, 
Ande  addressed  his  friend. 

"  Dick,  what  led  you  to  choose  such  a  queer  nom- 
de-plume.P  "  and  he  smiled. 

"  Well,  I  was  always  considered  a  dull'ead  and  never 
thinking  I'd  get  the  medal,  I  put  down  the  name  in  a 
little  disgust,  thinking  it  to  be  the  most  appropriate 
one." 

"What  was  the  subject?  " 

"  You  can't  guess  ?  " 

«  No." 

**  Well,  it  was  on  that  hurling  game  between  Breage 
and  our  fellows,  and  I  just  played  the  game  over  again 
in  imagination  when  I  was  writing." 

"  That  accounts  for  its  realism,  no  doubt.'* 

"  Did  'ee  notice  Tenny  after  the  general  prize  was 
given.?  " 


^  EXAMINATIONS  201 

"  No." 

"  His  face  was  as  wisht  *  as  a  herring." 

**  No  doubt.  I  noticed  him  after  the  silver  medal 
was  given  and  he  was  green  around  the  eyes." 

"  Serves  him  right,"  said  Dick,  "  for  sending  us  to 
Coventry  on  account  of  that  tale  of  Creakle  about  your 
father  and  grandfather." 

There  was  silence  for  a  moment,  unbroken  save  by  the 
breaking  of  the  waves  on  the  beach  beneath. 

"  Dick,  you  asked  me  once  out  of  curiosity  concern- 
ing that  tale  and  I  am  now  going  to  tell  you  and  get 
your  ideas.  You  have  a  better  head  than  we  gave  you 
credit  for." 

"  Fudge,  Ande,  your  head  would  make  two  of  mine, 
but  fire  away.  I've  been  anxious  for  a  long  time  to 
know." 

Ande  related  the  history  of  his  family  and  the  trea- 
sonable stain,  while  his  companion  listened  attentively, 
and  sympathetically.  The  tale  was  related  to  the 
finish. 

"  And  the  papers  ?  " 

"  They  were  all  confiscated  except  two,  that  are  now 
in  my  possession." 

"  And  your  father.?  " 

"  He  left  a  letter.  You  see  the  last  letter  that  my 
mother  received  before  father's  disappearance  con- 
tained one  sealed,  directed  to  me,  which  should  be  given 
to  me  when  I  came  to  mature  years.  It  was  given  me 
when  I  came  first  to  the  Grammar  School.  Here  it  is,'* 
^  Wisht — sickly. 


20«  ANDE     TREMBATH 

said  Ande,  as  he  pulled  out  of  his  inside  pocket  a  long 
envelope  that  had  been  sealed  with  red  wax. 

"  I  have  long  since  made  myself  familiar  with  its 
contents,  but  I  am  now  going  to  read  it  to  you,"  and 
opening  it  he  read  the  following: 


"Fort   Mau)ex,   Canada,    Sept.    10th,    1813. 

"My  Dear  Son  Andrew. — This  letter  is  enclosed  and  sent  in 
one  to  your  mother,  and  is  to  be  given  to  you  when  you  are  old 
enough  to  understand  its  contents.  Whether  I  shall  accomplish 
that  for  which  I  started  to  this  blood-stained  region  or  not  yet 
remains  to  be  seen.  If  not,  and  I  should  fall  either  in  battle  or 
a  captive,  you  must  faithfully  carry  out  my  request.  Proctor 
has  let  hell  loose  upon  the  Americans  and  it  has  come  back  upon 
our  own  heads.  I  have  no  taste  for  this  fighting  side  by  side  with 
savage  Indians,  and  certainly  Proctor  is  abusing  his  authority 
and  position.  He  ruthlessly  permits  the  savages  to  perform  the 
most  fiendish  things  imaginable,  and  has  no  respect  for  his  word 
to  a  fallen  foe. 

"  All  Michigan  was  taken  by  his  predecessor,  General  Brock, 
but  he  was  unfortunately  killed  and  now  this  unscrupulous  man 
is  over  us.  It  makes  me  blush  at  the  name  Englishmen  must 
bear  through  him,  and  disgusts  me  with  the  present  service.  At 
the  battle  of  Frenchtown,  last  January,  the  American  general, 
Winchester,  and  his  men  were  captured.  They  surrendered  on 
Proctor's  word  that  their  lives  and  property  should  be  safe,  but 
Proctor  returned  to  Maiden  and  left  the  wounded  and  prisoners 
to  be  scalped  and  burned  alive  by  the  blood-thirsty  devils,  our 
red  allies,  who  even  dragged  some  through  the  streets  of  Detroit 
for  sale.  Detroit  people  remonstrated  with  Proctor,  but  he  only 
shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"  The  same  proceedings  were  repeated  after  the  attack  on  Har- 
rison at  Fort  Meigs.  The  battle  was  as  good  as  a  victory  for  us. 
Our  men  were  on  both  sides  of  the  river  Maumee.  Our  left  was 
repulsed  with  a  small  loss,  but  our  right  was  victorious,  taking 
prisoners  nearly  six  hundred  men.  Then  the  same  savage  atroci- 
ties began.     Even  Tecumseh,  the  great  chief,  was  more  merciful 


EXAMINATIONS  203 

than  our  general.  With  an  appalling  yell  he  rescued  an  American 
prisoner  from  two  of  his  followers  and  then  insulted  Proctor  to 
his   face. 

" '  Why  do  you  allow  such  things  when  I  am  not  here  ? '  he 
said. 

" '  Your  Indians  can't  be  controlled,'  said  Proctor. 

"'Go,  put  on  petticoats;  you  are  not  fit  to  command  men,' 
said  Tecumseh,  and  with  that  he  stalked  proudly  away.  But  those 
who  heard  it  agreed  with  the  bold  chief.  He's  a  good  soldier, 
but  no  general,  and  his  cruelty  and  indifference  to  his  word  of 
honour  has  made  the  soldiers  sick  of  such  service.  On  account 
of  this,  and  Admiral  Barclay's  defeat  to-day,  Michigan  is  lost 
to  us  and  even  Canada  may  be  taken  aw^  from  the  home  gov- 
ernment. The  splendid  opportunities  that  Brock  placed  in  our 
hands  are  of  no  value  on  account  of  incapable  Proctor  and  pusil- 
lanimous Barclay.  The  naval  battle  was  won  before  it  was 
fought.  Barclay  had  six  vessels  and  Perry  nine,  but  what  of  that? 
Englishmen  have  conquered  before  against  odds.  But  there  was 
Barclay,  keeping  under  the  guns  of  Maiden,  casting  down  the 
spirits  of  his  men  with  the  thought  of  certain  defeat,  while  the 
American  ships  were  out  in  the  open  inviting  him  to  the  attack. 
The  sailors  and  gunners  begged  him  to  attack,  and  even  wept  in 
humiliation  at  his  cowardice.  Tecumseh,  with  several  thousand 
Indians,  were  on  an  island  waiting  to  witness  the  encounter. 
Tecumseh  rowed  over  and  sought  Proctor. 

" '  You  said  you  were  master  of  the  waters.  Why  don't  you 
go  out  and  fight?  The  Americans  are  daring  you  to  come  out 
and  fight.' 

"  The  result  of  that  battle  is  known,  or  will  be  known  soon. 
Oh,  for  men  like  Nelson,  and  Marlborough,  and  Wellington! 

"  But  to  the  point  of  my  request.  My  father  has  a  dishon- 
ourable stain  on  his  name,  though  unworthy  of  it,  I  believe.  I 
have  travelled  among  the  Shawnese,  our  allies,  who  were  father's 
foes  at  Braddock's  defeat.  I  was  sent  by  Brock  as  an  agent 
to  the  Ohio,  and  witnessed  their  dances  and  the  Prophet's  agita- 
tion a  year  ago.  Ah,  they  were  blood-curdling  scenes.  While 
there  I  talked  with  an  old  Shawnee  about  King  Shingas  and 
Captain  Jacobs,  father's  captors.  He  said  he  was  a  sub-chief 
under  Shingas  and  was  in  the  ambush  at  the  defeat,  and  from 


204  ANDE     TREMBATH 

what  I  could  glean  from  his  description,  father  was  among  the 
batch  of  prisoners  consigned  to  his  charge.  He  knew  not  what 
I  had  in  mind  at  first.  He  was  so  old  that  his  hair  had  turned 
white  or  grey,  an  unusual  thing  among  the  Indians,  He  spoke 
to  me  of  the  greatness  of  Shingas  and  the  suflFering  of  the 
prisoners  until  I  felt  like  shooting  him  on  the  spot,  the  hoary 
old  sinner.  All  were  not  burned,  for  after  running  the  gauntlet 
one  escaped,  snatching  a  club  from  an  Indian  in  his  flight.  The 
Shawnee  called  him  the  Long  Red  Wolf,  at  least  such  is  the  mean- 
ing of  the  Shawnee  name  in  English.  From  the  red  hair,  length 
of  limb,  and  swiftness  of  foot,  it  must  have  been  my  father, 
who  was  accounted  the  swiftest  foot  in  old  Cornwall  when 
young. 

"  Now  hark  ye,  son  Andrew,  among  the  papers  of  your  grand- 
father, found  on  his  person,  was  one  overlooked  by  the  King's 
oflBcers.  It  was  a  rude  map  of  the  Kittanning  region  and  the 
rough  vale  of  the  Lycamahoning.  I  send  a  copy  with  the  same 
directions  in  Shawnese  and  English.  The  vale  leads  down  from 
the  Allegheny  Mountains,  and  the  river  empties  into  the  Ohio 
some  distance  above  the  old  Indian  town  of  Kittanning,  as  you 
can  readily  see  from  the  accompanying  sketch.  I  have  learned 
from  long  association  with  the  Indians  that  this  region  is  rich  in 
silver  and  lead,  possibly  gold.  At  least  there  are  legends  to  that 
effect.  The  ability  of  the  natives  to  obtain  lead  for  their  weapons 
and  their  silver  ornaments  testify  to  an  eldorado  somewhere  in 
the  region.  Now  father  was  much  interested  in  mining  and 
metals,  as  what  Cornishman  is  not.  I  asked  the  old  warrior  of 
Shingas  concerning  the  Indian  legend  of  this  eldorado  and  quoted 
the  old  directions  in  Shawnese,  for  I  speak  their  language:  'On 
one  side  a  plain,  on  the  other  a  steep  that  a  smart  Indian  can 
climb.'  He  gazed  at  my  red  hair  and  became  silently  suspicious. 
A  bullet  that  passed  through  my  hat  on  my  way  back  to  Maiden 
told  me  my  knowledge  had  made  me  a  mark  of  vengeance. 

"This  is  all  I  know.  Connect  this  Indian  eldorado  with  the 
map  found  on  father's  body;  explain  how  the  French  commission 
as  captain  was  filled  in  with  his  own  name,  and  how  he  happened 
to  be  in  French  uniform,  and  the  problem  is  solved.  If  these 
could  be  explained  I  believe  our  family  could  raise  its  head  once 
more  among  the  loyal   families  of  the  delectable  duchy, — Corn- 


EXAMINATIONS  S05 

wall.  I'll  find  this  Indian  eldorado  and  your  grandfather's 
exoneration  at  the  same  time.  They  are  both  connected,  I  believe. 
If  I  fail  you  must  talce  up  the  cause. 

"  Your   affectionate    father, 

"  Thomas    Trembath, 

"Major 6th  Royal  Infantry. 

"  Fort  Malden,  Canada." 

"  That's  what  we  were  studying  about  the  other 
day,"  said  Dick,  as  Ande  ceased  reading.  "  De  'ee 
remember,  Ande,  about  Proctor  and  Tecumseh?  " 

"  Aye,"  said  Ande,  musingly. 

**  Are  you  going  to  take  up  the  search?  " 

"  Some  time, — when,  I  don't  know.  What  do  you 
advise.''  " 

"  I  should  say  after  you  get  through  with  the  sixth," 
said  Dick  promptly ;  "  but,  Ande,  you  haven't  told  me 
of  Sir  James  Lanyan  and  Master  Richard  and " 

Ande  gave  a  gesture  of  impatience  and  his  counte- 
nance clouded  over  with  anger. 

"  Dick,"  he  said  passionately,  "  parson  says  it's 
wrong,  but  I  hate  that  family  and  I  can  never  forgive 
them  the  wrong  they  did  me  and  mine.  When  the  time 
comes  I  will  be  terribly  revenged  upon  them  for  the 
cruel  slander  and  injustice  that  they,  for  the  sake  of 
capital,  brought  upon  us." 

Dick  was  silenced;  he  had  never  seen  the  pleasant 
face  of  his  friend  become  so  angry.  A  look  like  that 
of  a  demon  had  passed  over  his  features  at  the  very 
mentioning  of  Lanyan's  name. 

"  Hist !  "  said  Ande,  and  his  countenance  resumed 
its  old  expression. 


206  ANDE    TREMBATH 

Both  youths  listened,  in  their  sequestered  position. 

"  Remember,  Penner,  to  'ave  the  men  'ere  within  a 
half  an  'our.  See  that  each  is  well  armed  with  pistols 
and  cutlass.  The  cutter  'as  been  notified  and  is  a-beat- 
ing  down  the  coast,  and  the  paths  be  all  guarded.  This 
time  we'll  catch  the  hold  Prussian  fox  or  my  name  beant 
Penhall." 

Gazing  out  cautiously,  the  youths  saw,  on  the  beach 
below,  two  men  in  seaman's  garb. 

**  That's  Captain  Penhall  of  the  coastguard,  and 
his  lieutenant,  and  they  mean  to  surprise  the  King  of 
Prussia  Cove.  We  must  give  our  old  friend  warning, 
Dick,  lad." 

"  Les  up  and  away." 

"  Hold  on.  Didn't  'ee  hear  the  paths  are  all 
guarded." 

"  That's  so,"  said  Dick  rubbing  his  head,  doubt- 
fully. 

"  Come,  I  have  a  plan  at  last,"  said  Ande  after  a 
moment's  thought,  and  he  led  the  way  cautiously  at 
first  and  then  rapidly  inland.  For  a  mile  or  more  they 
kept  up  a  smart  pace,  Dick  following  with  some  diffi- 
culty. 

After  a  wide  detour  inland,  they  rapidly  approached 
Prussia  Cove.  His  plan  was  nothing  less  than  to  enter 
the  cove  by  the  perilous  path  from  which  he  had  fallen 
in  the  hurling  game  between  Breage  and  the  school. 
It  was  now  twilight,  and  darkness  was  rapidly  set- 
ting in. 

"  Halt ! "  said  a  quick,  sharp  voice  ahead. 


EXAMINATIONS  207 

"  On,"  whispered  Ande,  "  there's  only  two  of  them. 
I'll  take  the  right,  and  you  take  the  left." 

Dick  grappled  with  his  man  and  there  was  a  moment 
of  struggle.  But  the  sudden  impetus  of  Dick's  rush 
decided  the  battle,  for  the  coastguard  tripped  and, 
aided  by  his  antagonist's  bulk,  fell.  Ande  was  more  for- 
tunate, not  suffering  the  other  to  lay  hands  on  him. 
With  a  blow  of  his  fist  and  a  quick  Cornish  side  kick 
he  toppled  him  over. 

"  On !  "  shouted  Ande  and  down  the  narrow  pathway 
they  rushed  at  breakneck  speed.  There  was  now  no 
concealment.  Shots  flew  after  the  two  and  Ande  felt 
a  sharp,  quick  pain  in  the  left  arm,  but  he  gave  it  no 
attention.  In  a  moment  or  two  they  emerged  on  the 
sands  below,  and  their  arrival  was  none  too  soon.  The 
smugglers  had  already  secreted  half  the  cargo. 

**  The  coastguard !  They're  coming ! "  shouted 
Ande  as  he  rushed  among  the  crowd. 

Down  the  path  was  heard  the  approach  of  charging 
feet.  From  other  paths  the  same  ominous  sounds  were 
heard,  all  converging  on  the  cove,  and  soon  the  head 
of  the  cove  was  dotted  with  black  figures  of  guards- 
men. 

Now  did  Captain  Carter  show  his  courage.  His  men 
grasped  desperately  their  pikes  and  cutlasses,  and  not 
even  awaiting  the  attack  of  the  guard,  charged  at  the 
command  of  their  king.  Then  followed  a  sanguinary 
battle.  Shots,  oaths,  dull  resounding  blows,  and  groans 
made  the  silent  cove  a  veritable  pandemonium.  In  the 
midst  of  it  a  sail  was  seen  gradually  nearing  the  har- 


208  ANDE     TREMBATH 

hour  entrance.  The  quick  eye  of  Carter  saw  it.  Flour- 
ishing his  cutlass  on  high  he  roared : 

**  To  the  lugger,  men,  the  hawk's  at  the  entrance ! " 

The  two  youths,  not  knowing  where  to  go,  clambered 
on  board,  followed  speedily  by  the  captain  and  his  men. 
The  struggle  continued  to  the  very  lugger's  bulwarks, 
for  the  attacking  guard  were  more  numerous  than  their 
foes  and  felt  loathe  to  leave  them  go.  The  appearance 
of  the  revenue  cutter  near  the  entrance  also  gave  them 
renewed  courage.  They  strove  to  follow  after  the 
captain  and  his  men.  A  select  guard  of  the  smugglers 
was  speedily  appointed  by  the  captain  to  repel  boarders, 
and  these  did  their  work  well,  wielding  boathooks  and 
cutlasses  with  telling  effect.  In  the  meantime  sweeps 
were  gotten  ready  by  the  others  and  the  lugger  was 
under  headway,  slowly  leaving  the  frenzied  guardsmen 
of  the  government  on  shore. 

A  gun  sounded  from  the  entrance  and  a  ball  tore 
through  the  limp  mainsail. 

"  Between  two  fires,"  muttered  the  captain  with  a 
smothered  oath,  and  it  was  true,  for  the  revenue  cutter 
had  stationed  herself  midway  in  the  narrow  entrance. 

"  Pull,  my  hearties,  pull,"  shouted  the  captain, 
"  we'll  run  'er  down,  for  we  be  heavier !  " 

The  lusty  fellows  at  the  sweeps  did  pull,  and  with  a 
will.  The  cutter's  captain,  seeing  the  intention  of  the 
smugglers,  tried  to  frustrate  it,  and  partly  succeeded, 
but — crash ! — the  next  instant  the  lugger's  heavy  prow 
ran  athwart  the  cutter's  bow. 

"  She's  done  for,"  gleefully  said  the  smuggler  cap- 


EXAMINATIONS  S09 

tain,  as  the  next  moment  the  lugger  glided  into  the  bay. 
But  Carter  was  mistaken,  for  the  cutter  though  badly 
damaged,  was  not  disabled.  The  blow  was  above  the 
water-line  and  pursuit  was  kept  up  out  into  the  channel. 
There  was  a  light  breeze  blowing,  the  sails  were  set, 
and  the  sweeps  were  taken  in.  The  cutter  was  steadily 
gaining. 

*'  Can  she  catch  us  ?  "  asked  Ande  of  the  smuggler 
captain. 

"  No,"  said  the  captain,  pleasantly,  "  I  think  not. 
We  are  obliged  to  'ee,  lads,  for  your  timely  warning." 

Ande  wondered  at  his  good  humour  and  at  his  denial 
that  there  was  any  danger  of  being  overtaken,  when 
it  was  plain  that  the  cutter  was  gaining.  Evidently 
the  captain  had  some  plan,  he  thought;  and  he  had. 

"  Port  your  helm !  "  shouted  the  skipper,  and  then 
at  another  command,  more  sheets  were  spread  to  the 
wind  as  if  by  magic,  and  away  went  the  lugger  stag- 
gering under  a  cloud  of  canvas,  like  a  winged  bird  of 
the  sea. 

"  Jack,"  said  the  captain  to  our  old  acquaintance  of 
the  cliff  battle,  "  Jack,  do  'ee  think  'ee  could  wing  that 
chap?  " 

"  I'll  try,"  said  Jack,  and  away  he  rushed  to  the 
stem  where  a  long  brass  cannon  called  "  Long  Tom  " 
was  stationed.  The  gunner  sighted  for  an  instant, 
then  changed  the  sights  and  sighted  again;  then  as  if 
satisfied,  he  quickly  applied  the  lighted  linstock.  There 
was  a  flash  and  a  roar  and  the  ball  sped  on  its  mission. 

**  A  good  shot.  Master  Jack,  you've  brought  down 


210  ANDE     TREMBATH 

'er  mainmast,"  said  the  skipper,  who  was  examining 
the  effects  with  a  night  glass. 

He  had  hardly  spoken  when  there  was  a  puff  of  smoke 
from  the  cutter,  then  crash!  the  sound  of  rending 
plank,  and  a  ball  passed  straight  through  the  lugger 
at  the  water  line.  The  next  instant  there  was  another 
puff  of  smoke  and  another  ball  crashed  through  close 
to  the  second.    The  cutter  was  avenged. 

Captain  Carter,  with  a  pale  set  face,  hastened  below 
to  ascertain  the  injuries,  but  returned  in  a  moment. 
The  lugger  was  rapidly  filling  and  settling. 

"  Jack  and  I  will  give  them  a  shot  to  pay  for  that 
while  the  rest  of  ye  get  ready  the  long  boat,"  said  the 
captain,  sternly.  But  it  was  a  fatal  delay,  for  scarcely 
had  Long  Tom  been  sighted  e'er  in  a  mad  swirl  of 
waters  the  lugger  plunged  to  her  watery  grave — down, 
down,  down,  dragging,  in  her  deadly,  downgoing  eddy, 
captain  and  crew.  Ande  had  the  sound  of  many  waters 
in  his  ears,  and  kicked  desperately  to  free  himself  of  its 
deadly  influence.  Then,  after  an  interminable  time,  to 
his  joy  he  felt  himself  going  upward,  upward  and  up- 
ward. His  lungs  felt  like  bursting  under  the  terrible 
strain.  Could  he  hold  out  until  he  reached  the  surface.? 
He  made  another  desperate  downward  kick  and  joy, — 
his  head  shot  above  the  surface — but — nothing  visible 
but  the  dark,  tossing  waters  and  the  pale  stars  o'er- 
head.  Stay !  There  was  a  dark  mass  but  a  yard  or  so 
away  and  a  form.  He  drifted  nearer.  He  shouted  and 
a  hand  grasped  him  and  drew  him  up  on  a  floating 
piece  of  deck  timber. 


EXAMINATIONS  211 

«  Dick." 

"  Ande." 

Two  simultaneous  shouts,  but  that  was  all,  as  these 
two  friends  of  school  day  life  floated  together  on  the 
loosened  spar. 

Then  after  a  time: 

"  Didst  see  the  captain  or  any  of  the  crew?  " 

*'  All  drowned,  no  doubt,"  said  Dick. 

Then  there  was  more  silence.  Dick  was  a  famous 
swimmer,  but  clung  to  the  spar  reserving  his  strength 
for  the  future;  Ande  was  less  expert  in  the  swimming 
art  and  his  wound  and  exposure  was  gradually  weaken- 
ing his  grasp.     It  was  now  past  midnight. 

"  Dick,  do'ee  think  the  cutter  will  pick  us  up?  " 

*'  Hardly ;  you  see,  she  can't  do  much  with  her  main- 
mast gone,  and  then  the  tide  is  ebbing." 

Hours  passed  and  the  sickening  sense  of  weakness 
became  stronger  and  stronger,  and  that  weary,  pallid 
expression,  the  presage  of  unconsciousness,  swept  o'er 
Ande's  countenance  and  remained  there.  It  was  Dick 
who  realised  it  first,  and  he  flung  his  own  great  arms 
o'er  those  of  Ande,  binding  him  to  the  spar  with  his  own 
strength. 

"  Hold  on.     Don't  give  in." 

"  Dick,  I  was  shot  in  the  arm  coming  down  the  cliff, 
and  I  think  that's  what's  making  me  weak." 

"  Weather  it  out  until  daylight  and  we  shall  be 
picked  up.     Some  one  is  bound  to  see  us." 

"  Dick,  do  'ee  think  we  did  right  in  warning  the 
smugglers?  "  asked  Ande,  weakly. 


212  ANDE    TREMBATH 

"  Aye,"  said  Dick,  stoutly ;  "  they  were  honest  men 
trying  to  earn  a  living." 

"  Because, — you  see — you'll  get  through  all  right, 
but  I — I'm  getting  weaker  every  minute,  and  I  can't 
hold  out  much  longer — and  a  fellow  thinks  of  these 
things  when  he  hasn't  long  to  live." 

"  Nonsense,  we'll  both  pull  through  all  right.  Pluck 
up  courage."  Then  as  he  noticed  a  piece  of  rope  at- 
tached to  the  spar,  "  I  do  believe  I'm  still  a  dull'ead. 
Here  we  'ave  been  floating  in  danger  of  falling  ofi^ 
through  weakness  every  moment  and  there  is  the  means 
of  our  salvation." 

He  plucked  out  a  knife  from  his  pocket  and  severed 
the  rope  at  the  end  from  the  spar  and  passing  it 
around  Ande  and  himself  securely  lashed  themselves  to 
the  float. 

"  There,  if  we  can't  hold  out  much  longer,  we'll  at 
least  be  on  top  of  the  water  as  long  as  this  spar  floats." 

There  was  silence  for  another  half  an  hour  and  then 
Ande  said  wearily. 

"  Dick,  if  you  get  back  to  land — and  I  don't, — you 
— remember  me  to  mother  and  tell  her  I — died  a  Chris- 
tian." 

"  Aye,  aye,  old  fellow,  but  cheer  up !  "  But  the  tears 
ill  his  own  eyes  indicated  that  he  needed  his  own  advice. 

"  We  must  trust  in  God,  Dick." 

*'  Aye,"  said  the  other,  as  he  reached  over  and  shook 
hands    earnestly. 

"  And  Dick,  remember  me  to  her." 

"  Aye,"  said  Dick  once  more.     He  knew  for  quite  a 


EXAMINATIONS  213 

time  Ande's  interest  in  the  squire's  daughter,  and  that 
"  her  "  could  mean  no  one  else. 

On  they  drifted,  now  on  a  swelling  surge,  then  in  a 
dark  valley  of  water.  Dawning  light  appeared  in  the 
east,  but  no  land  was  visible. 

"  Cheer  up,"  said  Dick,  "  day  is  coming,"  but  there 
was  no  answer.  Grim  unconsciousness  had  come  at  last. 
Dick,  for  another  hour,  battled  with  the  terrible  faint- 
ness,  then  the  sea  seemed  to  fade  from  his  vision  and — 
the  sun  arose  beaming  brilliantly  on  the  world  of  toss- 
ing waters.  Nothing  was  visible  but  the  circling  gulls 
and  a  stick  of  timber,  and  two  unconscious,  half- 
drowned  lads. 


CHAPTER     XXI 

Abound  the  tavern's  flaming  gkate 

Around  the  tavern's   flaming  grate, 
The  rafting  done  and  the  hour  late. 
The  raftsmen  sit  and  laugh  and  sing;, 
Or  'bove  the  conversation's  din. 
Keep  time  with  feet  to  violin. 
On  which  the  lively  strains  are  played. 
Of  Devil's  Dream  or  White  Cockade. 

*  'RIGHT Right ^t ! Halt !     Left Left ! 

Halt!" 

Loud  and  clear  rang  out  the  voice  of  the  raft  pilot, 
so  loud  and  prolonged  that  even  the  roar  of  rushing 
waters  and  the  wild  lashing  of  wind  among  the  tree  laden 
banks  were  not  able  to  overcome  the  stentorian  com- 
mands. 

It  was  a  rough  night  in  the  wilds  of  western  Pennsyl- 
vania. The  rain  had  descended  steadily  for  three  days, 
and  now  the  Lycamahoning  had  arisen  from  its  ordinary 
rippling  tranquillity  into  a  boisterous,  turbulent  onrush- 
ing  tide.  Raftsmen  had  been  constantly  busy  through- 
out the  winter,  felling  the  gigantic  pines  and  firs, 
squaring  them  with  their  great  broad  axes,  and  then  with 
the  aid  of  hickory  saplings  and  pins  and  bows  of  the 
same  tough  material,  lashing  them  securely  one  against 
the  other,  rafting  them  in  for  the  cruise  down  the  river 

21i 


TAVERN'S  FLAMING  GRATE  315 

to  the  Ohio.  The  first  flood  had  come,  and  so  violent  was 
its  nature  that  many  a  hardy  raftsman  had  added  addi- 
tional bulyokes  and  hawsers  to  his  rafts,  fearing  the  loss 
of  his  winter's  labour.  The  night  had  set  in  stormy  and 
dark.  The  clouds  that  had  covered  the  face  of  the 
heavens  for  the  greater  part  of  the  week  had  grown  in 
intensity,  and  had  been  belching  down  their  floods  with 
renewed  violence.  The  wind  had  arisen,  softly  at  first, 
and  then  augmenting  into  a  small  tornado,  charging 
through  the  acres  of  treetops  that  added  additional 
sombreness  to  the  murky  night,  until  beaten  to  madness 
with  the  invisible  storm  weapons  and  stung  with  the 
drenching  rain,  tree  fought  with  tree,  lashing  themselves 
with  their  wooden  arms  into  an  agony  of  conflict. 

"  Who  in  the  name  of  common  sense  can  be  running 
timber  on  a  night  like  this?  He  is  either  a  madman  or 
an  imbecile,"  so  thought  rather  than  said  a  horseman 
who  had  paused  on  the  road  to  listen  to  the  shouts.  He 
placed  his  hand  up  over  his  brows,  shielding  his  view 
from  the  drenching  rain,  and  stared,  from  his  elevation, 
out  over  the  roaring  stream.  There  was  a  flash  of 
lightning,  illuminating  the  yellow  foam-flecked  flood  and 
out  in  the  centre  a  raft,  long  and  heavy,  yet  tossed  like 
a  feather  on  the  rolling  flood  waves.  There  were  two 
figures  at  the  great  rear  oar,  one  of  whom  was  the  pilot, 
one  figure  in  the  centre  with  a  coil  of  rope  in  his  grasp, 
and  at  the  front  oar — running  backward  and  forward, 
leaping  on  the  great  oar  handle  to  jerk  its  cumbersome 
blade  from  the  stream,  running  it  back  to  the  opposite 
side,  plunging  it  in  the  flood  once  more,  and  with  handle 


216  ANDE     TREMBATH 

overhead  pushing  with  might  and  main, — were  six 
figures,  seeming  in  the  distance  like  the  dancing  forms 
of  a  puppet  show,  whose  various  motions  were  controlled 
by  the  dark  form  of  the  pilot  in  the  rear.  The  flash  of 
lightning  passed  away  in  a  roll  of  thunder,  and  all  was 
wrapped  in  darkness  again. 

"Left!    Left!" 

"Halt!" 

"Left!    Left!" 

The  raft  was  rounding  a  curve  in  the  stream. 

"  Left !  Left !  Push !  Push,  with  a  will.  More  back- 
bone to  it,  boys !  Once  more  and  a  glass  of  toddy  at 
Burke's  for  each  man!  Left!  Left!  Now  then!  Heave 
to  it!  With  all  your  might!  Halt!  Don't  let  it  pull 
you  off  I    Hold  on  to  her !  "  bawled  the  raft  pilot. 

"Again!    Left!    Left!" 

"Halt!" 

"  Now  then,  Tom !    Jump  for  it ! " 

*'  Run  out  the  rope !  " 

"Snub!    Snub!" 

"  There,  ease  up,  Tom !     Take  the  next  tree !  " 

"  All  right,"  bawled  a  voice  from  the  shore. 

And  slowly  the  great  raft,  a  hundred  and  twenty  feet 
long  and  forty  wide,  swung  in  from  the  flood  after  two 
trials  had  been  made  to  break  the  speed.  Closer  and 
closer  to  the  bank,  away  from  the  force  of  the  current, 
until  alongside  she  was  safely  secured  with  a  double 
hawser,  a  prisoner  under  the  guardianship  and  control 
of  two  massive  oaks.  The  immense  oars  were  swung 
clear  of  the  water  and  their  handles  lashed  to  the  centre- 


TAVERN'S  FLAMING  GRATE  ^IT 

pieces.  Up  over  the  creek  bank,  stumbling  through 
thick  underbrush  and  over  fallen  trees,  came  the  hardy 
crew  and  at  length  gained  the  turnpike.  The  weather 
in  the  meantime  had  grown  colder  and  the  rain  changed 
to  falling  snow.  The  wind  had  fallen  in  its  violence. 
Onward  stumbled  the  crew,  then  at  length  up  a  slight 
elevation,  through  a  covered  bridge,  and  the  lights, 
twinkling  through  many  small  windows,  flashed  before 
their  eyes.  It  was  the  town  of  Burgtown,  famed  for  its 
two  rows  of  log  houses,  each  having  an  upper  story,  and 
doubly  famed  for  its  renowned  hotel  of  sawn  timber  and 
its  hospitable  but  talkative  host;  famed  also  for  the 
scholarship  and  mystery  surrounding  its  founder. 
Scholarship  and  mystery !  Yes,  scholarship,  for  no  one 
could  withstand  the  logic  of  the  Reverend  Mr.  Burg,  and 
his  tall,  dark  form,  his  deep  eyes  with  their  unfathoma- 
ble look,  was  enough  to  awe  even  the  stoutest.  Myste- 
riousness?  Yes,  mysteriousness,  for  he  had  come  in  the 
night  and  had  gone  in  the  night.  He  was  like  Melchiz- 
edek  in  one  respect,  no  one  knew  his  father  or  his 
mother,  no  one  knew  his  birthplace,  and  no  one  knew  his 
end.  There  was  a  story  rife  among  some  of  the  town 
people  that  he  had  been  guilty  of  some  unministerial 
conduct  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Standing  Stone, 
thought  it  best  for  him  to  put  the  Alleghenies  between 
himself  and  his  old  location,  and  had  accordingly  trav- 
elled with  more  speed  than  elegance  to  the  Lycamahon- 
ing,  where  with  the  aid  of  a  ploughline  he  had  plotted 
and  laid  out  the  town.  He  was  gone  before  the  settlers 
that  poured  in  became  fully  acquainted  with  him.  Two 


218  ANDE     TREMBATH 

years  had  elapsed  since  then  and  people  remembered 
little  of  him  with  the  exception  of  Peter  Burke,  the 
tavern  keeper,  and  it  seemed  that  Burke's  knowledge 
increased  with  the  years,  and  Burg  became  in  the  an- 
nals of  his  mind  a  demigod,  a  sort  of  modern  Romulus, 
whose  figure  and  deeds  became  larger  and  mightier  as 
they  reached  into  the  dimness  of  the  past. 

The  raft  pilot,  followed  by  his  men,  entered  the  door 
of  Burke's  place.  The  roaring  fire  of  logs  in  the  great 
stone  chimney  was  most  welcome  to  them  after  their 
night  of  toil.  They  made  .a  picturesque  group  as  they 
stood  stamping  the  mud  and  snow  from  their  long-legged 
logging  shoes  and  brushing  the  great,  soft  flakes  from 
caps  and  homespun  wamuses.  The  majority  of  the 
eight  were  stout,  ordinary-looking  young  men,  with  some- 
thing of  the  air  of  the  woods  in. their  manner  and  appear- 
ance. The  pilot  was  an  exception.  He  was  of  medium 
height  and  stoutly  built,  with  an  intelligent  face,  lighted 
up  with  keen,  sharp,  grey  eyes,  that  flashed  in  merri- 
ment in  repartee,  and  that  were  even  cunning  and  pene- 
trating at  times.  He  was  the  American  product  of  the 
*'  canny  "  Scotchman,  a  Scotch  American. 

Along  one  side  of  the  public  room  ran  the  rude  bar 
counter  with  a  few  homely  bottles  and  jugs,  and  near 
them,  his  rounded  form  a  living  advertisement  for  his 
wares,  one  eye  smiling  a  welcome,  the  other,  which  was 
squint  and  cross-eyed,  gazing  unwinkingly,  blankly,  out 
of  the  window  as  if  trying  to  penetrate  the  darkness,  was 
the  form  of  the  tavern  keeper. 

"  Supper  for  eight  ?  "  asked  the  tavern  keeper. 


TAVERN'S  FLAMING  GRATE  219 

^*  Aye,  ye  ken  that,"  answered  the  raft  pilot. 

Peter  Burke,  with  a  rolling  motion,  tumbled  off  to  a 
rear  door  which  he  swung  wide. 

"  Supper  for  eight  rafters,"  he  bawled. 

"  Arright,"  squeaked  a  distant,  feminine  voice, 

"  Hallo,  Hugh,"  said  a  deep  voice  from  a  comer  near 
the  flaming  fireplace. 

"  Hallo  yerself,"  said  the  pilot. 

"  What  led  you  to  pilot  on  a  night  like  this,  when  the 
creek  is  getting  higher  and  higher.  I  thought  a  rafts- 
man ought  to  know  that  the  proper  time  to  raft  is  when 
the  flood  is  falling,  not  rising." 

"  Not  always,"  said  the  pilot,  and  then  added,  "  Is 
that  you.  Bill?  " 

"Yes,  it's  I,  sure -enough." 

"  Well,  you're  schoolmaster  and  I'm  raft  pilot ;  every 
man  to  his  own  calling,  and  I  suppose  every  man  ought 
to  know  best  what  to  do  in  his  own  calling;  yet  you'd 
criticise  me  for  running  timber  on  a  rising  flood." 

"  There  are  Httle  things  in  all  trades  that  most  every- 
one ought  to  know.  I  was  riding  to  the  Burg  when  I 
heard  your  shouts  on  the  raft  and  I  wondered  what  ill- 
witted  fellow  was  running  on  a  rising  flood  on  a  night 
hke  this." 

"  Don't  think  it  science,  eh.'' "  a  little  nettled  to  be 
called  ill-witted. 

"  No.  Every  one  oujght  to  know  that  when  the  stream 
is  rising  it  is  higher  in  the  centre  than  it  is  on  the  sides 
and  when  falling  higher  on  the  sides  than  in  the  centre. 
Jlence  by  due  process  of  ratiocination," — the  school- 


220  ANDE     TREMBATH 

master  paused  to  give  the  large,  scholarly  word  due 
emphasis — "  you  must  run  on  a  falling  flood." 

"  That's  what  'tiz  to  be  a  scholard,"  muttered  the 
tavern  keeper,  admiringly. 

"  Aye,  science  and  scholard,"  snorted  Hugh  Lark,  the 
pilot ;  "  and  I  suppose  if  you  had  a  raft  on  a  sand  bar, 
you'd  wait  for  a  falling  flood  and  jack  it  off  with  a  hoist- 
ing jack,  eh.''  " 

There  was  a  roar  of  laughter  from  the  crowd  of  rafts- 
men, and  Hugh  smiled,  his  good  humour  once  more 
restored. 

"  Oh,  in  that  case  it's  different,  but  that's  a  single 
exception,"  said  Professor  Bill,  in  some  humiliation. 

*'  No  single  exception.  Suppose  ye  had  a  raft  tied  up 
above  the  island  or  down  under  the  hill,  would  ye  run  on 
a  rising  or  wait  for  a  falling  flood.?  " 

"  I  would  most  assuredly  wait  for  a  falling  flood, 
and " 

The  schoolmaster  was  interrupted  by  a  chuckle  from 
Hugh,  and  broad  grins  from  his  assembled  men. 

"  I've  no  doubt  that  ye  would,  but  you'd  find  your 
raft  a-scattered  all  the  way  twixt  here  and  Pittsburgh. 
Why,  mon,  there's  ne'er  ahawser  made  that  can  hold  araft 
in  those  positions  in  a  rising  flood.  'There  are  more  things 
in  heaven  and  earth,  Horatio,  than  are  dreamt  of  in  your 
philosophy.'  " 

Professor  Bill  Banks,  or  Professor  Bill,  as  he  was 
commonly  known,  was  silenced.  The  last  remark  and  the 
quotation  from  Shakespeare  had  put  him  to  rout.  He 
flushed  and  kept  his  eyes  on  the  fire.    The  raftsmen  were 


TAVERN'S     FLAMING     G?tATE     ggl 

delighted.  There  was  nothing  they  enjoyed  so  much  as 
a  tiff  between  Bill  and  their  pilot.  Professor  Bill  was 
the  most  learned  man  of  the  neighbourhood.  Since  the 
exodus  of  the  Reverend  Burg  he  had  held  the  pre- 
eminence. He  was  the  leader,  and  there  was  none  to 
dispute  with  him  with  any  fair  show  of  success  except 
Hugh,  the  pilot.  Hugh  had  invariably  come  off  second ; 
here  he  had  achieved  first  honours.  Hugh  was  well  read 
in  a  number  of  subjects,  but  his  knowledge  was  only 
such  as  he  could  find  by  perusing  history,  in  which  indeed 
he  was  a  fair  scholar,  and  the  topics  of  the  day. 

"  Was  stuck,  Hugh?  "  asked  the  tavern  keeper,  with 
some  new  measure  of  respect. 

,  "  Aye,  yesterday  the  creek  was  full  of  floating  timber 
and  we  stuck  on  a  sand  bar.  There  were  no  rafts  behind 
to  shove  us  off  and  we  had  to  wait  for  a  greater  flood. 
We  wouldn't  have  stuck  if  Tom,  there,  hadn't  lost  his 
head." 

Tom,  a  great  hulking  fellow,  looked  a  trifle  sheepish, 

*'  You  see,"  continued  Hugh  Lark,  "  I  was  up  at  the 
crosscut  and  in  making  the  bend,  I  was  just  gitting  the 
raft  pinted  when  he  was  afraid  we'd  strike  and  tear  up. 
He  bellowed  like  a  bull,  *  We'll  strike,  we'll  tear  up, 
some  un  run  out  a  rope  and  tie  up.' " 

"  It  war  pretty  nigh  striking,  though,"  muttered 
Tom,  In  some  apology. 

*'  Nonsense !  Why,  there  were  fully  fifteen  feet  of 
water  on  either  side.  How  could  we  strike  or  even  run 
out  and  tie  up  when  we  had  nothing  to  run  on  but  water? 
The  rain  had  stopped  for  an  hour  or  two  and  we  were 


222  ANDE     TREMBATH 

getting  on  fine.  The  flood  was  a-carrying  us  on  with  a 
good  speed.  The  banks  were  slipping  by  as  if  they  were 
running  the  other  way.  The  front  men  were  dipping 
occasionally,  but  they  hung  on  to  the  oar.  Then  come 
the  bend.  I  could  see  it  a  hundred  yards  before  we  come 
to  it,  the  water  a-swirling  and  a-twisting  like  a  yallow 
ribbon  and  then  disappearing  from  sight  behind  the 
trees.  *  Left,  men,  left,'  I  shouted.  Then  Tom  lost  his 
head.  He  let  go  the  oar,  and  the  oar  being  too  much 
for  the  other  chaps,  and  being  af eared  of  being  yanked 
into  the  flood  they  let  go  too,  and  the  next  minute  came 
the  thud  of  grounding.  I  saw  that  it  was  a-coming  and 
braced  myself,  hanging  on  to  the  oar.  But  the  fellows 
in  front,  how  they  tumbled!  They  were  around  Tom  in 
the  centre,  a-galleyhooting  and  shouting.  I  never  had 
such  a  crew  of  numbskulls.  When  the  grounding  came 
they  tumbled  over  each  other  like  nine-pins." 

Supper  was  announced  and  the  hungry  raftsmen 
wended  their  way  to  the  eating  department,  a  plain  long 
room,  ceiled  with  pine,  and  adorned  with  sundry  prints 
of  "  Babes  in  The  Wood,"  and  "  Red  Riding  Hood." 
The  table  was  a  heavy  wooden  afl'air,  evidently  the  result 
of  home  labour;  the  provisions  with  which  it  was  plenti- 
fully laden  were  of  the  class  found  in  every  woodsman's 
home,  viz.,  pork,  beans,  com  bread,  burr-wheat  bread, 
and  home-made  syrup. 

A  split  log,  the  level  side  up,  the  rounded  side  down, 
into  which  were  inserted  several  hickory  legs,  served  in 
lieu  of  chairs,  and  seated  upon  this,  the  hungry  raftsmen 
fell  to  with  a  will. 


TAVERN'S  FLAMING  GRATE  223 

Meantime  the  public  room  was  occupied  by  the  tavern 
keeper  and  Professor  Bill  Banks.  Professor  Bill  was 
apparently  thirty  years  of  age.  He  had  a  high  fore- 
head, blue  eyes,  a  mass  of  dark  hair  overhanging  his 
ears,  and  a  prominent  Roman  nose.  The  nose  seemed 
to  give  great  strength  to  his  features,  as  also  did  his 
chin.  He  was  clad  In  the  customary  tail  coat,  tight 
pantaloons  with  straps,  neckerchief,  and  over  all 
towered  his  tall  "  nail  keg  "  silk  hat.  Professor  Bill 
was  attired  for  a  special  occasion.  He  was  going  to 
vist,  ostensibly,  the  father  of  a  certain  rustic  damsel, 
and  had  stepped  in  for  his  mail.  The  talk  with  the 
pilot  nettled  him,  for  in  an  argument  he  liked  to  show 
his  superiority,  as  he  was  the  recognised  great  man  of 
letters  In  the  place.  The  talk  was  not  the  only  thing 
that  disturbed  and  ruffled  his  feelings.  His  horse  had 
inadvertently  stepped  into  a  washout  on  the  road,  and 
had  fallen  so  lame  that  it  was  utterly  impossible  for 
him  to  proceed. 

"  Hear  of  Big  Paddy's  accident  ?  "  asked  the  tavern 
keeper,  wishing  to  promote  a  better  feeling. 

"  No,"  curtly  said  Bill. 

"  Ha !  Ha !  He !  "  cackled  the  tavern  keeper,  **  it  war 
amusin'." 

"  Come,  cease  those  asinine  cachinations  and  explain," 
said  Bill,  with  some  Irritation. 

"  Yer  a  great  scholard.  Bill,"  said  the  tavern  keeper, 
in  some  admiration  at  this  flow  of  erudite  language,  "  but 
when  ye'd  speak  highly  of  me,  I'd  wish  ye  could  use 
plainer  words.    Well,  big  Paddy  and  his  uns  are  a-bulld- 


224  ANDE     TREMBATH 

ing  a  new  church  in  the  burgh,  and  they  were  all 
a-drlnking  of  rye  to  make  the  work  go  lively.  Big  Paddy 
would  always  do  the  heaviest  work.  At  last  there  war 
the  heavy  corner  stone  to  lift  off  the  wagon,  and  none 
could  roll  her  down.  Paddy  were  nigh  full  when  the 
stone  come.  Ha !  Ha !  He ! "  and  the  tavern  keeper 
went  off  into  another  cackle  of  laughter,  his  cross-eye 
blinking  with  tears  of  merriment,  and  his  protuberant 
stomach  laughing  in  sympathy.  "  Ha !  Ha !  He !  "  and 
he  went  off  into  another  cackle  that  threatened  to 
strangle  him. 

"  If  it's  your  whiskey  that  made  him  ridiculous,  I  do 
not  wonder,  for  its  the  most  catholicon  panacea  for  the 
diminution  of  intelligence  and  propagating  of  blatant 
puerility  and  asinine  imbecility  extant.  Witness  your- 
self for  an  example."    Bill  was  becoming  sarcastic. 

"  So  'tiz,  so  'tiz,"  said  the  tavern  keeper,  highly 
pleased.  "  I  say.  Professor,  what  a  high  lamt  person 
ye  are;  now — do  ye, — do  ye  think  ye  could  write  that 
daoun  ?  " 

"Why.?" 

"  I  could  git  it  printed  on  a  sign  and  it  'ould  look 
grand-like.  I'd  be  much  'bleeged  to  ye,  Bill,"  said 
Burke,  earnestly. 

Professor  Bill  smiled  good  humouredly,  and  asked, 
"Well,  about  Paddy?" 

"  Oh,  he  looked  at  'em  all  a-tugging  at  the  stone,  for 
it  war  a  whopper,  and  then  he  ups  and  says,  '  Let  be, 
now,  let  the  auld  man  have  a  chance,'  and  with  that  he 
grabbed  a-hold  of  it.     He  pulled  it  off,  but  it  war  too 


TAVERN'S  FLAMING  GRATE  226 

much  for  him,  and  it  come  down  kerflop  on  his  foot. 
There  war  an  uproar  and  the  big  paddies  and  Httle  ones 
come  a-running  up  and  screaming  and  shouting :  *  And 
are  ye  hurted  now,  Daddy?  And — and — and  are  ye 
hoorted  now.  Pappy?  And  are  ye  hoorted  now,  grand- 
daddy  ?  '  Big  Paddy  war  mad.  *  Tare  and  hounds,' 
said  he,  '  trow  a  stun  like  that  on  a  man's  fut  and  ask 
if  he  war  hoorted,  ye  spalpeens.'  " 

The  tavern  keeper  went  off  into  another  cackle  of 
laughter,  and  the  schoolmaster  feebly  joined  in. 

The  rafting  crew  now  returned  from  the  supper-room 
and  gathered  around  the  flaming  open  fireplace.  Raft- 
ing stories  followed  each  other  in  rapid  succession,  Hugh 
Lark  seeming  to  have  the  greatest  fund.  Clay  and  corn- 
cob pipes  were  brought  out  from  various  pockets  and 
soon  wreaths  of  smoke  began  to  dim  the  atmosphere. 

"  Hear  of  old  Jim  Handy's  trip  ?  "  asked  one  after 
Hugh  had  told  a  rather  exciting  story. 

"  No,"  said  Hugh. 

"  Let's  hear  it,"  said  the  others. 

"  Jim  had  ne'er  been  on  the  water  and  thought  it 
would  be  a  nice  thing  for  him  to  go  on  a  trial  trip.  He 
had  allers  said  that  the  land  war  good  enough  fer  him, 
and  that  he  would  ne'er  trust  himself  to  nawthing  but 
solid  land.  Some  of  the  boys  up  on  the  Big  Lycamahon- 
ing,  that  were  cutting  timber  fer  him,  up  and  began 
talking  of  the  funny  times  they  had  down  at  the  mouth, 
the  dancing  and  the  parties.  And  then  they  begun  to 
talk  of  the  ride  down,  just  as  easy  as  riding  a  good 
hoss.     The  old  man  had  a  powerful  set  of  rafts  to  run, 


226  ANDE     TREMBATH 

and  he  saw  one  after  another  go  down  the  stream  and 
the  fellows  cherry  and  'parently  enjying  the  ride.  They 
got  him  so  worked  up  over  the  ride,  and  the  good  times 
they  had,  that  he  decided  to  go,  too,  on  the  last  raft. 
They  told  him  that  all  he  would  have  to  do  would  be  to 
stand  in  the  centre  and  perhaps  they  could  make  a  chair 
fer  him  to  set  on.  The  old  man  war  tickled  with  the 
idea.  On  the  river  they  told  him  they  could  put  up  a 
regular  shanty  on  the  raft  and  it  would  be  like  travel- 
ling in  a  coach,  and  then  he  would  have  a  chance  to 
see  Pittsburgh.  The  old  man  had  never  seen  Pittsburgh 
and  it  war  the  capping  argument.  Then  some  fool 
fellow  told  him  of  the  dams  and  the  going  under  the 
water  five  or  six  feet  when  the  raft  would  plunge  over 
the  shoots.  The  fellows  told  him  that  they  could  fix 
that  all  right.  They  would  make  a  high  wooden  horse 
fer  him  to  sit  on  when  they  would  take  the  shoots.  That 
fixed  him.  Last  week  the  raft  war  ready  to  make  the 
trip.  They  had  a  slanting  pole  fixed  in  the  centre,  and 
a  seat  up  at  the  top  where  the  old  man  could  sit  in  the 
dry  when  the  raft  would  plunge  under.  It  went  all 
right  till  they  come  to  the  big  dam.  Then  as  they  war 
making  fer  the  shoot  and  were  fairly  in  it,  all  the  fellows 
at  the  front  oar  dropped  it  and  run  up  the  pole  after 
the  old  man.  The  old  man  hollered  to  them  that  they 
would  break  it  down,  but  they  didn't  keer.  Up  they 
went,  and  just  as  they  were  plunging  under,  the  pole 
broke,  and  down  tumbled  the  old  man  with  all  the  others. 
The  raft  war  oak  and  sunk  dead,  like  lead.  It  went  to 
the  very  bottom  and  then  rose  again.    The  old  man  hung 


TAVERN'S  FLAMING  GRATE  ^27 

on  and  so  did  the  others,  but  he  was  mad,  a-cussing  and 
swearing  and  spitting  water  like  a  water  dog.  It  war  a 
sight  to  see." 

The  fellow  burst  into  a  laugh  that  was  echoed  by  the 
others. 

"  If  he  had  been  a-riding  that  sixty-foot  stick  that 
you  rode,  Hugh,  he  would  been  scared  worse,  eh,"  said 
one  of  the  rafters. 

"  Tell  us  the  story,  Hugh,"  said  others. 

"  It  were  not  much,"  said  Hugh.  "  A  sixty-foot 
stringer  wnr  torn  off  by  one  of  the  rocks  in  the  Rough 
Water.  I  thought  we  ought  not  to  lose  it,  and  so  gave 
the  rear  oar  into  the  hands  of  my  assistant  and  jumped 
for  it.  I  landed  clear  in  the  centre  of  the  stick  as  it 
slipped  behind  me.  The  raft  was  going  faster  than  the 
stick.  How  do  ye  account  for  that,  Bill  ?  "  asked  Hugh, 
pausing  in  his  narrative. 

"  Very  easy,"  said  Bill.  "  The  timber  stick  did  not 
give  so  much  surface  for  the  force  of  the  current  as  the 
raft.  Hence  the  raft  went  the  faster  of  the  two.  But 
the  stick.?  "  inquired  Bill,  who  was  also  interested. 

"  Well,  I  landed  as  I  said  in  the  centre  of  the  stick, 
then  slipped  down  on  my  hands  and  knees,  and  began  to 
guide  it.  Sometimes  it  would  roll  and  I  would  have  to  roll 
with  her  to  keep  on  top.  Then  I  had  to  watch  lest  I  should 
get  jammed  against  the  rocks.  I  jumped  off  several 
times  to  avoid  being  squeezed,  and  swum  back  again. 
Once  I  got  atween  the  stick  and  the  rocks  and  she  was 
a-coming  for  me.  I  dived  under  it,  come  up  on  the  other 
side,  and  that's  what  saved  me  from  certain  death.     I 


228  ANDE     TREMBATH 

couldn't  catch  up  to  the  raft  and  so  I  rode  the  stick  all 
the  way  to  the  river,  where  the  raft  was  awaiting  for  me. 
That  was  all  thefe  was  to  it.  It  was  an  exciting  time, 
though." 

There  were  murmurs  of  admiration  from  the  assem- 
bled raftsmen  and  then  more  tales  followed.  Rafts 
torn  up  in  the  rough  water,  raftsmen  drowned  though 
expert  swimmers,  deeds  of  rescue,  and  things  of  a 
similar  nature  followed  in  rapid  succession.  The  home 
distilled  liquor  was  used  sparingly,  and  finally  the  fiddle 
was  brought  forth  and  music  enlivened  the  public  room. 
White  Cockade,  Devil's  Dream  and  others  followed, 
the  raftsmen  keeping  time  with  their  heavy  boots  and 
sometimes  by  dancing.  One  of  the  younger  raftsmen  exe- 
cuted a  woodman's  fling  in  a  creditable  manner,  encour- 
aged by  the  handclapping  of  the  others  and  the  occa- 
sional shouting  in  tune  with  the  melody  "  Heigh  ho^ 
de-do,  de-do,  de-do,  de-do !  " 

In  the  midst  of  the  revel  the  door  was  opened  and 
two  strangers  entered.  They  had  evidently  been  riding 
far,  for  their  garments  showed  the  trace  of  hard  travel. 
The  one  who  appeared  to  be  the  spokesman  was  tall, 
well  proportioned,  with  a  tangled  mass  of  auburn  hair, 
more  tangled  by  the  pelting  storm  without,  and  a  beard 
trimmed  in  the  Vandyke  style  and  of  the  same  hue  as  his 
hair.  The  other  was  a  giant  in  size,  standing  fully  six 
feet  six  inches,  and  broad  in  proportion.  He  had  the 
dark  hair  and  features  of  the  Celt. 

The  tavern  keeper  was  all  hospitality.  Room  was 
made  for  them  around  the  flaming  fire  log  and  their 


TAVERN'S  FLAMING  GRATE  229 

clothes,  damp  with  the  storm,  were  soon  drying.  There 
was  a  lull  in  the  conversation  of  the  raftsmen,  the  fiddle 
had  been  consigned  to  its  place  o'er  the  chimney  piece. 

"  Can  we  get  supper.'' "  asked  the  one  with  the  red 
beard. 

The  tavern  keeper  nodded  and  added,  "  Certain,  and 
a  good  one  at  that,"  and  going  to  the  rear  door  he 
bawled  to  the  cook,  "  Supper  fer  two  gents." 

"  Arright,"  squeaked  the  distant,  feminine  voice. 

"  Our  horses  must  be  fed  and  stabled  also,"  said  the 
same  gentleman.  The  tavern  keeper  gave  the  neces- 
sary directions  to  a  tow-headed  boy,  who  disappeared 
into  the  outer  darkness. 

"  And  'ere,"  thundered  the  larger  of  the  two 
strangers,  as  he  opened  the  door  after  the  boy,  "  see 
that  you  rub  the  horses  down  well  and  give  them  a  good 
bed,  and  a  warm  mash." 

The  giant  returned  to  the  fire  and  stood  before  its 
pleasing  blaze. 

"  You  uns  kin  sign  yer  names  when  ye  git  warm." 
It  was  the  tavern  keeper  that  spoke,  and  the  travellers, 
taking  the  hint,  moved  over  to  the  soiled  record  book 
and  added  their  names  to  the  few  already  inscribed 
there.  Peter  Burke,  tavern  keeper,  scrutinised  the 
names  carefully  with  his  good  eye,  while  the  other 
seemed  to  be  studying  the  appearance  of  the  strangers. 
One  of  the  raftsmen  leaned  over  to  Hugh  and  whispered 
in  his  ear  that  to  be  cross-eyed  was  a  wonderful  talent 
for  the  tavern  keeper;  he  could  read  the  names  on  his 
book  and  size  up  the  people  at  one  and  the  same  time. 


230  ANDE    TREMBATH 

"  You  uns  travelling  f er  ?  "  dsked  one  of  the  rafts- 
men. 

"  No,  sir,"  laconically  responded  the  red-headed  one. 

"  Come  from  Kittanning?  "  said  another. 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  How's  election  news  down  there,  and  what's  opinion 
on  John  Quincy  Adams  ?  " 

"  Adams  seems  to  be  very  popular,  and  Jackson  has 
a  good  following." 

"  Adams  will  carry  the  day,  no  doubt,"  said  the  pilot. 

"  He'll  not  can  do  that,"  muttered  some  one  in  dissent. 
Whereupon  there  followed  a  small  deba-te  on  the  merits 
of  the  two  candidates  for  Presidential  position. 

"  Up  here  'lectioneering  ?  "  inquired  a  third,  turning 
to  the  strangers  again. 

"  I  calculate  you  are  from  the  west,  stranger,"  said 
Hugh  Lark. 

"  You've  struck  it  partly,"  laughingly  said  the  red- 
headed stranger,  and  then  apparently  tired  of  answer- 
ing questions,  added,  "  We're  here  from  Louisiana  and 
are  here  prospecting." 

Curiosity,  instead  of  being  appeased,  was  instantly 
aroused.  A  sharp  look  flashed  into  Hugh's  eye  as  he 
scrutinised  them. 

"  Wall,"  said  the  tavern  keeper,  "  I  allers  said  thar 
war  something  in  these  hills.  What  ye  think  'tiz, 
stranger,  gold?  " 

"  No,  we're  prospecting  for  character." 

"  Karakter,"  said  the  tavern  keeper,  musingly,  "  I 
ne'er  hearn  tell  of  that  metal  afore." 


TAVERN'S  FLAMING  GRATE  231 

"Don't  think  there's  much  about  here?"  asked 
the  red-headed  stranger,  with  just  the  shadow  of  a 
smile. 

"  Not  as  I  knows  of,"  and  the  tavern  keeper  rubbed 
his  .head  in  doubt. 

Professor  Bill  snorted  in  disgust. 

**  Look  here,  stranger,  we  have  more  character,  good 
sterling  character,  in  this  section  than  our  dotard 
friend  informed  you  of." 

Peter  Burke,  tavern  keeper,  looked  pleased  at  this 
compliment.  To  be  called  a  friend  of  Professor  Bill's 
and  a  friend,  too,  with  that  "  high  larndt  word  ahead 
of  it !  "  If  Professor  Bill  was  a  drinking  man  he  would 
have  set  up  a  glass  to  Bill  then  and  there  free. 

*'  Character,  sir !  "  continued  Bill.  "  We  sent  forth 
the  most  stalwart  characters  during  the  Revolution, 
though  not  from  this  immediate  neighbourhood,  yet 
from  Western  Pennsylvania — Captain  Brady,  the  In-- 
dian  fighter,  and  scores  of  others.  Hugh  Lark,  there, 
can  tell  you  of  his  father.  Captain  Ande  Lark,  the 
sharpshooter,  who  performed  prodigies  of  valour  in 
many  a  hard  fought  field." 

"  Aye,"  said  Hugh,  "  'tiz  all  true." 

*'  And  didn't  they  hold  the  Britishers  down  at  Con- 
cord and  Lexington,  Yorktown  and  Stony  Point.''  "  con- 
tinued Bill. 

"  Aye,  all  ken  they  did  that,"  said  Hugh. 

"And  what  was  it  for?  "  said  Bill,  getting  oratori- 
cal.    "  The  tyrant  oppressed  us ;  taxed  us  without  rep- 
"  resentation ;  quartered  soldiers  on  us  in  times  of  peace, 


2S2  ANDE     TRlEMBATH 

and  seized  the  patriots'  powder  and  ball.  Then,  sir, 
the  American  eagle  screamed  in  wrath  and  the  noble 
characters,  Washington,  Putnam,  Morgan,  Green, 
Brady,  Lark,  and  hundreds  of  others  went  forth  to 
war,  to  battle  valiantly  for  the  cause  of  freedom  and 
shed  their  blood  for  the  rights  of  man.  Even  in  the 
humbler  walks  of  life  sterling  character  was  demon- 
strated. The  ploughboy,  the  woodsman,  the  tradesman, 
the  farmer,  all  left  their  habitations,  and  with  their 
old  flint-locks  over  their  shoulders  sped  to  the  defence 
of  their  nation's  life  and  honour.  This  country  was 
won  by  the  stout  courage  of  the  colonial  fathers,  and 
their  stout-hearted  sons  to-day  have  within  their  breasts 
the  same  doughty  heroism  that  dominated  the  republic 
in  that  day.  Yes,  but  a  few  years  ago,  the  War  of 
1812  made  lucid  that  fact.  Lundy's  Lane,  Fort  Meigs, 
Thames  River, — rwho  has  forgotten  them?  Character! 
The  country  is  full  of  it,  sir." 

"So  'tiz,  so  'tiz,"  interjected  the  tavern  keeper; 
"  Professor  Bill's  high  larndt  and  orter  know." 

"  And,"  said  Bill,  "  should  the  tocsin  of  war  sound 
once  more,  the  temple  of  Janus  be  closed,  and  strife 
with  bloody  claws  sweep  like  a  dragon  over  the  land, 
should  even  all  Europe  band  together  against  us,  send 
their  fleets  to  harass  our  waters,  their  hirelings  to 
devast  our  land,  they  would  find  how  patriots  could 
contend  for  the  heritage  of  their  ancestors,  how  they 
could  battle  against  the  iron  heel  of  oppression,  and 
victory  again  would  ultimately  crown  the  American 
arms.    All,  because  of  her  brave  characters." 


TAVERN'S  FLAMING  GRATE  233 

"  Thas  so ;  Bill's  a  scholard  and  orter  know,"  said 
the  tavern  keeper,  nodding  sagely. 

"  Patrick  Henry  was  not  the  only  one  who  said  '  give 
me  liberty  or  give  me  death.'  The  spirit  of  heroism  is 
in  the  hearts  of  the  American  citizens.  They  breathe 
it  in  the  very  air.  Mountains,  trees,  birds,  and  even 
the  very  beasts  of  the  wild,  proclaim  alike  the  freeman's 
land.  None  can  wrest  it  from  us  while  there  is  a  God 
and  while  Americans  are  true  to  themselves." 

Professor  Bill  sat  down  amidst  a  round  of  applause 
from  the  admiring  raftsmen,  while  the  tavern  keeper 
rubbed  his  hands  in  the  keenest  of  pleasure. 

"  Bill,"  said  one  of  the  raftsmen,  "  ye'U  hev  to  git 
that  speech  down  fer  the  Fourth  o'  Jerly.  That's  the 
best  speech  we  uns  heard  since  the  Senator  talked  in 
Indiana." 

"  So  'tiz,"  said  the  tavern  keeper.  "  Bill's  a  scholard. 
I  say.  Bill,  could  yer  write  that  daoun.''  " 

"What's  that.?"  inquired  Bill. 

"  Why,  about  the  eagle  a-hoUering  like  mad  fer 
liberty  and  so  on.  Ye  see,  we  uns  are  gitting  a  new 
brand  of  stuff  with  an  eagle  on  it  and  it  would  look 
grand  like  to  hev  them  words  on,  too." 

"  Aye,  perhaps,"  said  Bill  with  a  smile,  "  but  I  won- 
der how  they  teach  those  events  over  in  England.  They 
must  ignore  them.  Say,  stranger,  how  do  they  teach 
in  Louisiana  those  salient  points  of  our  national  his- 
tory.? " 

"  What  a  scholard ! "  murmured  the  tavern  keeper  as 
he  passed  a  drink  to  a  newcomer. 


234  ANDE     TREMBATH 

**  Concerning  the  salient  points  of  American  his- 
tory," responded  the  red-bearded  stranger,  "  they  teach 
about  the  same  as  in  this  section,  I  surmise, — that  is, 
local  events  are  dwelt  upon  unduly  and  there  is  a  ten- 
dency to  glorify  the  victories  and  mitigate  the  defeats. 
The  school  children,  there,  know  more  about  Jackson 
and  the  Battle  of  New  Orleans  than  about  Ross  or  Fort 
Meigs.  In  England  the  same  thing  obtains.  Local 
events  are  prominent  and  the  glorious  things  are  magni- 
fied, while  the  dark,  unhappy  events  are  passed  lightly 
over." 

"  Yes,  so  I  thought.  Now  in  this  country,  though, 
there  is  a  tendency  to  do  those  things,  yet  national  and 
international  questions  are  fairly  represented,"  said 
Bill. 

The  stranger  shook  his  head  in  dissent. 

**  The  very  same  thing  is  as  prevalent  in  America  as 
in  England.  The  bright  things  are  haloed  and  the 
dark  obscured.  The  schoolboy  gets  but  one  side  of  the 
question  at  issue.  History  ought  to  be  taught  for  the 
sake  of  truth  and  not  for  the  sake  of  generating 
patriotism.  Take  the  American  Revolution.  Children, 
here,  are  taught  that  England  was  a  hateful  tyrant, 
taxing  us  unreasonably,  simply  for  the  pleasure  of 
showing  the  strong  hand,  and  wantonly  aggressive  in 
destroying  the  patriots'  powder  and  ball.  Yorktown, 
Stony  Point,  and  Saratoga  are  dwelt  on.  What  Ameri- 
can does  not  know  those  battles  by  heart  and  how  feebly 
impressed  on  the  American  mind  are  the  occupations  of 
Boston,  New  York,  Philadelphia,  the  Battle  of  Brandy- 


TAVERN'S  FLAMING  GRATE  235 

wine,  the  Long  Island  defeats,  and  the  disasters  in  the 
South?  Now  a  fair  way  would  be  to  emphasise  both 
sides  of  the  war,  the  battles,  and  the  causes.  Causes  are 
given  in  many  American  histories  of  the  war,  but  they 
are  American  causes ;  the  English  are  not  mentioned. 
Would  it  not  be  foolish  to  war  without  a  cause.''  " 

*'  Well,  what  causes  did  Britain  have  for  the  war 
and  her  oppression.'*  "  said  Bill,  sharply. 

"  Many,"  said  the  red-bearded  stranger,  sharply. 
"  Taxation,  for  instance,  is  not  wrong  in  itself.  The 
government  of  a  country  is  supported  by  taxes.  Britain 
sent  quite  a  few  armies  to  this  country  in  the  time  of 
the  French  and  Indian  war  to  protect  the  colonies. 
Could  the  colonies,  notwithstanding  the  bravery  of  her 
few  colonial  troops,  have  withstood  the  armies  of 
France,  Montcalm  and  the  others,  without  aid?  Hence 
the  armies  of  Braddock,  Amherst,  Wolf  and  others. 
The  home  government  was  burdened  with  a  debt  that 
had  been  greatly  for  the  protection  and  augmentation 
of  the  American  colonies.  Indeed,  had  that  war  not 
been ;  had  Wolf  not  taken  Quebec,  the  glorious  United 
States  would  be  only  a  narrow  strip  of  country  along 
the  Atlantic  seaboard.  Even  this  part  and  other  parts 
west  of  the  Alleghenies  would  be  French  soil,  and  you 
would  all  be  French  citizens." 

"  The  stranger  must  be  a  scholard,  too,"  muttered 
the  tavern  keeper. 

"  And,"  continued  the  stranger  warming  up,  *'  Eng- 
land, therefore,  incurred  a  great  debt  and  insured  to 
America  the  territory  to  the  Mississippi  and  even  be- 


236  ANDE    TREMBATH 

yond  partly.  What  benefit  was  this  to  the  English 
citizen?  Had  he  a  right  to  pay  it  all?  Ought  not 
America  a  right  to  bear  a  part  of  the  burden  ?  " 

"True,"  said  Bill,  thoughtfully,  "but  how  about 
non-representation?  Was  it  right  to  tax  us  without 
our  consent?  " 

"  Easily  explained,"  resumed  the  stranger.  "  Eng- 
land herself  did  not  have  representation.  Many  parts, 
great  cities,  Manchester,  Sheffield,  and  others  had  none. 
The  House  of  Commons  did  not  represent  England. 
Was  representation  to  be  given  to  the  colonies  when  it 
was  denied  to  England  herself?  " 

"  Very  true,"  said  Bill,  uneasily,  "  but  what  about 
oppressive  taxes  ?  " 

"  Not  much  oppression.  Americans  admitted  them- 
selves that  it  was  not  the  weight  of  the  taxes,  which 
were  small,  but  the  principle  of  the  thing.  The  chief 
taxes  were  stamp  and  tea  taxes  and  taxes  of  a  similar 
nature.  The  burden  was  laid  on  the  rich,  mostly.  The 
labouring  man  had  little  occasion  for  stamped  paper. 
In  reference  to  tea,  tea  was  a  luxury  and  not  a  neces- 
sity at  that  time.  Is  there  much  oppression  in  that? 
And  about  the  seizing  of  powder  and  ball  of  the 
patriots,  that's  nothing  more  than  the  United  States 
would  do  should  the  State  of  Pennsylvania  gather  up 
powder  and  ball  to  be  used  against  the  national  govern- 
ment." 

"  Well,  why  did  the  American  nation  arise  en  masse 
in  revolt,  if  they  were  not  overly  oppressed,"  persisted 
Bill. 


TAVERN'S  FLAMING  GRATE  237 

*'  The  American  people  did  not  arise  en  masse," 
responded  the  stranger.  "  There  were  thousands  of 
citizens,  wealthy  and  influential,  on  the  King's  side, 
until  toward  the  middle  of  the  war.  Would  it  have  been 
so  easy  for  the  British  to  take  Boston,  New  York, 
Philadelphia,  and  Charleston,  if  they  were  wholly  in 
favour  of  Washington  and  the  war.''  No.  They  would 
have  burned  their  cities  like  the  Russians  did  Moscow. 
Both  sides  ought  to  be  taught  in  the  study  of  history 
and  a  better  grasp  of  truth  would  result.  About  non- 
representation,  that  was  wrong  and  the  Americans 
were  partly  justified  in  struggling  against  it.  The 
English  people  are  struggling  for  the  same  thing,  to- 
day. They  have  no  real  representation,  but  will  get  it 
soon.  It  is  much  better,  however,  to  win  representation 
and  liberty  by  peaceful  means  than  by  war." 

There  was  silence  for  a  moment,  and  then  Professor 
Bill  responded. 

"  Those  are  new  ideas  to  me,  and  you  have  opened  up 
a  new  channel  of  thought;  but  at  least  you  will  admit 
that  our  histories  are  substantially  correct  and  fair 
in  reference  to  the  late  war,  the  War  of  1812.  What 
right  had  England  to  prey  upon  our  commerce  and 
impress  our  seamen  even  though  they  were  formerly 
Englishmen?  " 

"  The  preying  upon  commerce  was  piracy  upon  the 
part  of  England " 

"  Good  and  well  said,"  affirmed  Professor  Bill. 

"  The  impressment  of  American  seamen — Americans 
must  handle  the  subject  carefully  or " 


238  ANDE     TREMBATH 

"Or  what?" 

**  They'll  be  trampling  on  their  own  laws  and  govern- 
ment. England  claimed  once  an  Englishman  always  an 
Englishman,  naturalisation  notwithstanding.  Ameri- 
can law,  that  is  based  on  English  to  a  great  extent,  is 
somewhat  the  same.  A  citizen  of  the  United  States 
cannot  throw  off  his  allegiance  and  unite  with  another 
nation  without  the  consent  of  the  United  States.  Wit- 
ness the  case  of  Murray  and  the  Charming  Betsey  in 
1804,  before  the  Supreme  Court.  In  the  case  of  Isaac 
Williams  before  the  Circuit  Court  of  the  United  States 
for  the  District  of  Connecticut,  in  1797,  it  was  decided 
that  no  member  could  dissolve  the  compact  of  citizen- 
ship except  by  consent  of  the  United  States,  and  there 
had  been  no  consent  on  the  part  of  the  United  States. 
These  cases  were  of  Americans  who  attempted  to  be- 
come citizens  of  the  newly  formed  republics  of  South 
America.  And  yet  we  say  England  was  wrong  in  tak- 
ing American  citizens,  who  had  been  formerly  English- 
men, and  had  become  naturalised  Americans  contrary  to 
England's  will.  There  is  an  apparent  inconsistency  in 
the  matter,  visible  even  to  the  dullest  mind." 

Professor  Bill  was  silent  and  apparently  in  deep 
thought. 

"  You  have  travelled  some,"  said  Hugh  Lark. 

"  Yes,"  said  the  red-bearded  stranger.  "  My  friend 
here  and  myself,  during  the  last  eight  years  have  been 
travellers.  We  have  been  in  Brazil  and  other  American 
countries.  That  is  why  I  remember  the  cases  of  the 
Charming  Betsey  and  Williams.     The  decision  of  the 


TAVERN'S  FLAMING  GRATE  239 

United  States  in  those  cases  still  rankles  in  the  hearts 
of  the  people  of  the  southern  continent." 

The  raftsmen  and  schoolmaster  were  eager  for  tales 
of  adventure  and  strange  countries,  when  the  supper 
bell  rang,  and  the  two  gentlemen  disappeared  into  the 
long  dining-room.  After  supper  they  retired,  being 
thoroughly  tired  with  the  travel  of  the  day. 

"  Who  air  those  fellows  ?  "  asked  one  of  the  rafts- 
men. 

The  question  was  voiced  by  all  in  the  public  room. 

The  tavern  keeper,  obsequiously  handed  the  record 
book  to  Bill,  who  read  out  for  the  benefit  of  all  the 
following : 

"  Andrew  Trembath,  Esq.,  New  Orleans." 

"  Richard  Thomas,  New  Orleans." 

"  The  one  must  be  a  lawyer,"  said  Professor  Bill, 
with  a  good  bit  of  respect  in  his  tones. 

"  Did  you  notice  the  silent  one  ?  What  a  giant  In 
size  he  Is.?  He'd  make  an  oar  fly,  I'll  wager,  eh,  Hugh?  " 
said  one  of  the  raftsmen. 

"  Aye,"  said  Hugh,  meditatively. 

*'  The  one  fellow  is  a  Cornishman,"  said  Bill. 

"  WTias  that.  Bill  ?  "  said  the  tavern  keeper. 

"  A  native  of  the  southwest  of  England,  a  section 
noted  for  its  minerals  and  seamen." 

"  How  do  ye  ken  that.  Bill?  "  asked  Hugh  Lark. 

"  Because,"  said  Bill, 

"  By  Tre,  Tri,  and  Pen, 
Ye  may  know  the  Cornishmen." 


CHAPTER   XXII 


THE      LYCAMAHONING 


The  sun  arose  o'er  the  eastern  hills  of  Lycamahon- 
ing,  a  great  disc  of  flame,  fretted  with  the  great  solemn 
pines  and  oaks  of  the  hilltops,  and  driving  before  it 
the  opaline  radiance  of  early  twilight.  Pine  needles 
lost  the  sombre  hue  of  night  and  glistened  and  gleamed 
with  a  richer  emerald  where  the  ever-shifting  sunbeams 
touched  and  gloried  them  with  light.  Trees  of  oalc  and 
pine,  a  hundred  and  fifty  feet  in  height,  enveloped  with 
interlacing  branches  hill  and  lowland,  except  where, 
oasis-like,  the  fields  and  cabin  of  some  squatter  dappled 
the  general  surface  of  woodland.  A  few  clouds  still 
remained  on  the  western  horizon,  dark  and  threatening, 
but  the  day  was  propitious  for  fine  weather. 

Ande  and  Dick,  for  the  strangers  were  none  other, 
were  aroused  by  the  first,  glancing  rays  of  the  sun  that 
penetrated  the  curtains  of  their  little  window.  Fling- 
ing aside  the  curtain  drapery,  they  gazed  forth  de- 
lighted on  the  scene.  Within  a  few  yards  of  the  house 
wall  rolled  the  roaring,  yellow  flood  of  the  Lycamahon- 
ing,  a  mighty  torrent,  sweeping  beyond  its  natural 
bounds.  Tree  trunk  and  brush  and  what  not  tossed 
hither  and  thither  by  its  rollicking  mood,  yet  bore  ever 
onward.     It  was  an  ambitious  stream,  for  the  banks 

240 


THE     LYCAMAHONING  241 

could  not  hold  it.  The  turnpike,  beyond  the  bridge, 
was  hidden  three  feet  from  sight,  and  tearing  through 
the  underbrush  on  either  side  of  the  public  way  was  an 
ever-widening  torrent.  The  town  was  on  higher  ground 
than  the  turnpike  beyond  and  so  escaped  the  damage 
of  the  flood. 

"  What  a  grand  country,  Dick,  old  chap,"  said  Ande, 
surveying  the  scene  with  interest.  "  This  is  better 
than  hot  Louisiana  or  even  the  Mississippi  prairies." 

"  Humph !  "  yawned  Dick ;  "  but  not  better  than 
Brazil."  Then  as  he  ceased  stretching  his  great  arms 
over  his  head ;  "  Just  think  of  it,  Ande,  if  we  had  not 
been  picked  up  by  that  outward  bound  Brazilian  ship, 
we  would  not  be  independent  now.  Ah!  diamonds  and 
gold!     That's  the  country,  lad." 

"  Softly,  softly,  Dick,"  said  Ande  in  a  lower  tone, 
"  we're  not  going  to  advertise  our  circumstances.  A 
month  or  so  here,  then  home  to  Merrie  England.'* 

"  And  right  glad  will  I  be,"  said  Dick ;  "  but  let's 
down  and  see  what  this  settlement  in  the  backwoods 
is  like." 

Ande  followed  by  Dick  went  cautiously  down  the 
steep  stairway,  that  seemed  squeezed  between  the  great 
chimney  and  the  farther  wall  and  led  out  at  the  bottom 
into  the  public  room.  There  was  no  one  in  the  public 
room  when  they  entered,  and  so  they  wended  their  way 
across  to  the  door  and  thence  out  into  the  street,  if 
street  it  could  be  called.  The  hotel  of  Peter  Burke  was 
at  the  head  of  the  main  and  only  street  of  Burgtown. 
and  one  walking  straight  from  the  front  door  of  the 


ANDE  TREMBATH 

hotel  would  pass  down  an  avenue,  prolific  in  stumps, 
midway  between  two  rows  of  log  houses.  Back  of  the 
tavern  and  but  a  few  yards  from  it  rolled  and  roared 
the  Lycamahoning,  and  but  a  few  yards  from  the  north 
end  was  the  covered  bridge.  It  thus  stood  with  the 
homes  stretching  from  it  in  parallel  lines,  like  a  captain 
at  the  head  of  his  soldiers.  Several  citizens  were  abroad 
already  with  their  axes  and  were  busily  felling  a  forest 
giant  that,  isolated  and  ostracised  with  a  few  others, 
waved  its  branches  in  the  air  above  the  middle  of  the 
main  thoroughfare  of  Burgtown.  Several  raftsmen 
with  Hugh  Lark  at  their  head  were  standing  at  the  end 
of  the  broad  porch  gazing  over  toward  the  bridge  and 
the  rushing  yellow  flood,  shaking  their  heads  dubiously 
at  it,  well  knowing  that  there  would  be  no  rafting  either 
that  day  or  the  next.    The  flood  was  too  high. 

There  was  the  sound  of  cracking  and  rending  of 
wood  from  the  thoroughfare,  a  swishing  and  snapping 
of  branches,  a  cry  of  warning,  then  one  of  terror,  and 
with  a  resounding  blow  the  mighty,  woodland  giant 
sprawled  its  full  length  on  the  ground.  With  an  ex- 
clamation Hugh  Lark  leaped  into  the  roadway  fol- 
lowed by  the  other  raftsmen  and  Ande  and  Dick.  They 
were  soon  on  the  scene.  There  pinned  to  the  earth 
under  the  heavy  tree  trunk,  unconscious,  his  brow 
streaked  with  blood,  was  a  man,  evidently  the  chief 
chopper. 

Women  from  the  neighbouring  homes  were  wringing 
their  hands  in  dismay,  and  then  from  a  distant  cabin 
came  a  woman's  scream,  a  cry  full  of  anguish,  and  then 


THE     LYCAMAHONING  243 

a  flying  form  burst  the  crowd  and  flung  herself  down 
near  the  head  of  the  unconscious  chopper.  With  tender 
hands  she  mopped  the  blood  from  his  forhead  and  kissed 
his  pale  brow  again  and  again,  calling  by  every  endearing 
name  to  the  unconscious  one  to  answer  her.  Hugh  Lark 
wiped  the  moisture  from  his  eyes,  as  did  many  others. 
Then  with  the  instinct  of  the  leader  of  men : 

"  Run,  Jack,  and  get  the  rope  and  tackle  and  block 
from  the  raft.  Jim,  go  get  the  heaviest  crowbar  from 
the  tavern,  and  the  rest  of  you  men  get  crowbars.  Peter 
Burke,  get  to  thy  tavern  as  fast  as  your  legs  will  carry 
you  and  bring  a  flask  of  brandy." 

"  Can  nothing  be  done  until  the  coming  of  the  block 
and  tackle,"  ventured  Ande.  "  Is  it  too  heavy  for  a 
couple  of  fellows  to  lift  by  main  strength,?  " 

The  raft  pilot  shook  his  head.  "  Three  men  could  not 
lift  the  butt  of  that  tree,  and  more  than  three  couldn't 
try,  without  doing  more  injury  to  Tom  underneath.  I 
only  hope  he  won't  die  before  the  rope  comes." 

Dick  had  not  said  a  word,  but  he  now  hauled  off  his 
coat,  and  placing  his  big  arms  around  the  butt  end  of 
the  fallen  tree  began  to  exert  his  strength. 

"  The  man  is  mad,"  muttered  Hugh  Lark  to  one  or 
two  bystanders,  while  they  all  looked  and  wondered. 

The  blood  mounted  to  his  face  and  forehead,  crim- 
soning his  features  like  the  sunrise  of  a  rainy  day,  and 
then  the  veins  stood  out  like  whipcord  upon  his  brow 
and  arms,  but  the  tree  moved  not.  There  was  a  strain- 
ing of  the  eyes  of  Old  Ironsides  until  they  threatened  to 
burst  from  their  sockets,  a  rigidity  of  the  limbs  that 


244  ANDE     TREMBATH 

though  motionless  yet  indicated  that  the  giant  was  put- 
ting forth  every  atom  of  his  strength.  The  spectators 
scarcely  breathed.  Then,  even  before  the  people  were 
aware  of  it,  the  tree  began  to  move,  silently,  slowly, 
almost  imperceptibly,  inch  by  inch,  up  from  the  fallen, 
injured  chopper.  There  was  a  suppressed  murmur  from 
the  crowd,  then  Hugh  with  a  bound  was  beside  the 
injured  man,  and  with  the  assistance  of  Ande  quickly 
and  deftly  hauled  him  from  his  perilous  position.  There 
was  a  shout  from  the  tavern.  The  rope  and  tackle  was 
coming,  but  there  was  no  need  of  them.  Then  Peter 
Burke,  his  cross  eye  glaring  at  the  bystanders,  and  his 
other  fastened  upon  Hugh  and  the  succoured  one,  pushed 
his  rotund,  sebaceous  body  through  the  crowd,  and  with 
one  fat,  trembling  hand  extended  to  Hugh  the  brandy. 
A  swallow  of  the  fiery  liquor  and  the  fellow  opened  his 
eyes. 

"  Hurt  much,  Tom?  "  asked  Hugh  and  the  chopper's 
wife  in  almost  one  breath. 

"  Not  much.  Pretty  well  shuk  up.  Yes — pretty  well 
shuk  up." 

They  assisted  the  fellow  to  his  feet,  and  then  to  his 
cabin  home,  still  muttering  in  his  dazed  fashion :  "  Pretty 
well  shuk  up !     Yes — pretty  well  shuk  up." 

Hugh  was  relieved.  It  was  evident  that  whatever 
injuries  he  had  received,  the  shock  was  more  than  them 
all,  and  with  rest  he  would  evidently  pull  through  it. 

The  clang  of  a  breakfast  bell  sounded  on  the  morning 
air,  and  the  rafters  and  travellers  trooped  to  the  tavern. 

The  fame  of  Dick  and  his  companion  speedily  spread 


THE     LYCAMA  HONING  245 

through  the  neighbourhood.  Dick,  according  to  rough 
estimates,  had  lifted  a  weight  of  two  hundred  stone. 
Hugh  Lark  was  the  most  affable  of  all.  Tom,  the 
injured  chopper,  had  been  a  lifelong  friend,  and  this  aid 
to  a  friend  in  distress  he  could  not  forget. 

"  Ye'U  come  down  and  see  my  raft,"  said  he  after 
breakfast.  "  You  have  never  seen  a  raft  and  it  '11  be 
interesting  to  see  how  it's  put  together,  and  how  we 
manage  it  with  the  great  oars ;  and  then  I  have  some- 
thing to  tell  you  that  will  be,  no  doubt,  interesting." 

Together  Hugh  and  our  travellers  wended  their  way 
around  the  tavern  end,  and  down  the  edge  of  the  stream. 
They  rounded  a  bend  in  the  stream  and  there,  riding  in 
the  comparatively  quiet  water  of  the  eddy,  was  the  raft 
of  the  night  before.  With  a  bound  Hugh  was  on  it, 
followed  by  the  others. 

"  Ye'U  notice  the  way  it's  put  together.  First  we 
square  the  timber  sticks  after  they  are  cut  to  proper 
lengths,  then  tumble  them  into  the  water  side  by  side, 
and  bore  these  holes  with  the  augur  three  inches  apart. 
Then  we  get  the  stoutest  ash  or  hickory  poles,  green 
and  strong,  and  lay  across  the  top  of  them  midway 
between  the  holes,  and  bind  them  to  the  timber  with  well 
seasoned  hickory  bows  and  wooden  pins.  Ah!  I  see  you 
are  trying  the  oar."  This  last  to  Ande,  who  swung 
with  his  weight  the  great  oar  blade  from  its  fastenings, 
and  shoved  it  to  and  fro.  "  It's  not  easy  work  in  a 
strong  flood,  and  especially  in  the  Rough  Water." 

"  The  Rough  Water.?  " 

"  Aye !     That's  a  section  of  the  stream  in  the  Big 


246  ANDE     TREMBATH 

Lycamahoning  some  fifteen  miles  from  here,  where  in  a 
course  of  ten  miles  the  water  rushes  with  the  speed  of 
a  race  horse.  It's  most  dangerous  because  of  the 
rocks  and  requires  a  steady  head  and  a  ready  hand 
to  pilot  through.  Yet  I  have  done  it  many  a  time 
and  had  no  accidents.  I  suppose,  with  the  exception 
of  old  Pegleg,  I'm  the  only  pilot  that  can  say 
as  much,"  and  then  seeing  the  look  of  inquiry  on 
the  faces  of  his  auditors  he  continued :  "  Pegleg  is  a 
one-legged  pilot  who  feels  as  much  at  home  on  the 
bobbing  raft  as  he  does  on  the  land.  But,"  and  Hugh 
looked  at  his  auditors  kindly,  "  I  didn't  fetch  ye  here 
for  the  sake  alone  of  showing  the  raft.  I  wanted  to  get 
you  away  from  the  prying  eyes  and  ears  of  old  Peter 
Burke  and  the  rest.  Last  night  I  felt  little  like  saying 
much  about  certain  knowledge  that  I  have,  but  men  who 
have  favoured  our  village  by  saving  the  life  of  one  of  its 
citizens,  and  one  of  my  best  friends  at  that,  deserve 
something  in  return.  If  you  are  prospectors,  come  to  my 
place  to-morrow  evening  and  mayhap  I  can  give  ye  the 
information  that  would  be  of  value  to  you.  But  not  a 
word  to  any  others,  and  especially  to  old  Peter." 

"  We'll  be  on  hand,  never  fear,"  said  Ande. 

There  was  a  crashing  in  the  underbrush  of  the 
shore,  and  two  or  three  of  the  raftsmen  leaped  on  the 
raft. 

"When  do  ye  think  we  can  safely  start,  Hugh?" 
asked  one. 

"  In  two  days,  not  before.  The  flood  will  take  that 
time  to  go  down  to  a  good  rafting  stage.    In  the  mean- 


THE     L  Y  C  A  ]M  A II O  N I N  G  247 

time,  boys,  we'll  go  home;  but  day  after  to-morrow  we 
start  out  for  down  stream." 

All  returned  to  the  tavern  where,  after  some  conver- 
sation, the  raftsmen  betook  themselves  to  their  homes 
and  Ande  and  Dick  having  mounted  their  horses,  well 
rested  with  the  night,  pushed  down  stream,  toward  the 
west,  on  a  rude,  half-cleared  mountain  traiL  The  road 
wound  itself  in  a  sinuous  line  over  hills  and  through 
deeply  wooded  glens,  but  always  the  roar  of  the  stream 
was  in  their  ears. 

"  What  boundless  forests  these  are,"  said  Ande,  as 
they  rested  their  horses  on  the  summit  of  a  steep  declivity 
and  gazed  o'er  the  rolling  mass  of  treetops.  "  No 
wonder  Professor  Bill  was  so  oratorical.  This  is  the 
famous  country  through  which  Armstrong  marched  his 
troops  in  1756  against  Shingas  and  Jacobs,  the  Shaw- 
nese  chiefs  of  Kittanning,  and  near  this  section,  no 
doubt  farther  south,  poor  grandfather  lost  his  life.  It 
was  a  fatal  mistake." 

"  Perhaps  we  shall  find  something  in  this  section  that 
will  tell  us  of  your  grandfather." 

"  If  we  do,  it  will  be  in  connection  with  the  Indian 
eldorado,  spoken  of  by  my  father." 

They  had  pushed  on  rapidly  and  were  now  nearing 
the  mouth  of  the  Little  Lycamahoning.  The  gleam  of  a 
great  expanse  of  water  between  the  trees  ahead  indicated 
their  approach. 

"  That  must  be  the  Big  Lycamahoning  of  which  Lark 
spoke." 

"  Hist !  "  said  Dick,  "  there  are  some  wild  geese  on  the 


248  ANDE     TREMBATH 

big  creek.  Hear  them  gabble.  There  must  be  fully  a 
score.     It's  fortunate  we  have  our  guns  with  us." 

They  were  now  fairly  in  the  outer  shadow  of  the  trees 
that  o'erhung  the  trail,  and  the  stream,  swollen  by  the 
flood  to  three  times  its  natural  size,  stretched  before  them 
three  hundred  yards  in  width. 

"  You  take  the  right  of  the  group,  and  I'll  take  the 
left,"  whispered  Ande. 

Simultaneously  with  the  crack  of  their  own  guns 
another  sounded  from  the  midst  of  the  willows  that 
fringed  the  shore.  There  was  a  confused  "  Hank — 
Hank !  "  from  the  frightened  birds  as  they  rose  in  flight. 
A  second  later,  a  light  canoe  darted  swiftly  from  the 
willows,  and  an  aged  hunter,  its  only  occupant,  gathered 
up  the  five  or  six  birds  that  were  slain,  placed  them  in 
his  canoe,  and  rapidly  paddled  up  stream.  All  happened 
so  quickly  that  the  canoe  with  its  aged  occupant  shot 
around  a  bend  in  the  stream  and  disappeared  from  sight 
before  Ande  or  his  friend  could  say  a  word. 

"  Cool  robbery !  let's  after  him,"  said  Ande,  and  suit- 
ing his  action  to  the  word,  he  pushed  his  horse  into  the 
stream  and  swum  to  the  other  side,  followed  by  Dick. 
The  trail  was  struck  again  on  the  other  side  and  up  the 
stream  they  went  at  as  fast  a  gait  as  the  many  stumps 
and  fallen  trees  would  allow.  Several  times  they 
crossed  the  stream  by  swimming  their  horses.  Two 
miles  up  stream  the  creek  valley  widened  and  the  stream, 
winding  around  the  base  of  a  hill,  formed  a  loop  or 
peninsula  of  some  fifteen  acres  or  so  in  extent.  Here,  in 
a  small,  grassy  clearing,  a  rude  cabin  of  unhewn  logs 


THE     LYCAMAHONING  249 

greeted  their  vision.  It  was  a  one-storied  affair  pierced 
with  loopholes,  and  had  a  small  window  in  the  end  facing 
the  stream.  The  roof  of  heavy  hand-made  clapboards, 
weighted  down  with  poles,  was  green  with  age  as  also 
were  the  mossy  logs  of  its  walls.  The  door,  a  heavy 
affair  of  split  timber,  was  ajar  and  near  it  on  a  wooden 
settle  was  the  figure  of  the  hunter,  a  man  of  some 
seventy  years.  The  hair  of  his  head  and  beard  were 
snowy  white,  but  his  active  frame  belied  his  years.  He 
was  clad  in  leathern  breeches,  heavily  fringed  along  the 
outer  seams,  and  moccasins  of  the  same  tough  material. 
A  loose,  woollen  wamus,  the  product  of  the  settlements, 
served  in  lieu  of  shirt  and  coat.  His  coonskin  cap  was 
beside  him  on  the  bench  and  he  was  busily  engaged  in 
plucking  the  captured  birds.  The  sound  of  trotting 
horses  aroused  him  from  his  work  and  he  cast  a  keen, 
scrutinising,  blue  eye  on  the  approaching  invaders  of  his 
little  domain. 

"  I  say,  sir,  we'd  like  to  know  why  you  appropriated 
our  birds,"  said  Ande. 

"  Aye  ?  "  inquired  the  hunter. 

Ande  repeated  the  question. 

"  I  shot  these  birds." 

"  Well,  we  shot  some  too  and  you  seized  them  all." 

"  Ye  did  shoot  some.?  " 

*'  Yes,  we  did ;  we  were  on  the  road  at  the  fording  and 
fired  at  them." 

The  old  man  gazed  at  them  earnestly,  and  evidently 
believing  their  tale,  said: 

"  I  thought  that  more  were  killed  with  my  shot  than 


250  ANDE     TREMBATH 

customary,  and  if  ye  fired  at  the  same  time  that  I  did, 
that  explains  my  not  hearing  the  report  of  your  guns. 
Ye  are  welcome  to  some  of  them." 

"  Oh,  no,"  said  Ande,  somewhat  mollified  by  the 
hunter's  generosity  and  explanation.  "  We  thought  you 
were  robbing  us,  but  it  was  clearly  a  mistake." 

"  Will  ye  sit  down ;  it's  nigh  dinner  time  and,  if  ye  can 
eat  with  a  lone  old  man,  you're  most  welcome.  Ye  can 
pasture  your  horses  in  that  bit  of  clearing." 

The  invitation  was  accepted.  The  horses  were  tethered 
out  where  they  could  nibble  the  grass,  and  they  returned. 

"  Come  from  afar?  "  interrogated  the  old  hunter. 

"  From  Louisiana,"  said  Ande. 

"  Here  hunting?  " 

"  No,  prospecting." 

The  old  hunter  straightened  up  as  if  shot,  and  gazed 
at  them  as  if  he  would  pierce  them  through  with  those 
keen,  blue  orbs  of  his. 

"  What  for?  "  suspiciously. 

"  Metal,  either  silver  or  gold,"  explained  Ande,  whose 
suspicions  were  also  aroused. 

"  Do  ye  think  ye  wiU  find  it?  " 

"  Yes,  somewhere." 

"Where?" 

"  Along  this  stream." 

*'  And  do  ye  have  any  aid  to  help  ye  in  your  search?  " 

*'  We  have  little  but  our  own  knowledge." 

"  And  your  home  is  in  Louisiana  ?  " 

"  No,  we  came  from  there." 

The  old  man  arose  with  the  birds  which  he  had  finished 


The  old  hunter  straightened  up  as  if  shot,  and  gazed  at  them  " 


THE     LYCAMAHONING  251 

plucking  and  cleaning,  and  was  silent  for  a  time  while 
he  placed  them  in  a  home-made  oven  for  cooking. 
Returning  to  the  settle  he  took  up  the  conversation. 

"  Ye'U  find  naught  here  but  woods  and  hills  and 
coal." 

"  Have  you  been  here  long  ?  "  asked  Ande,  in  turn 
becoming  the  inquirer. 

"  Nigh  sixteen  years." 

"  How  does  it  happen  that  you,  a  hunter,  should 
frequent  this  section,  which  is  rapidly  becoming  civ- 
ilised.? " 

"  Well,  the  country  is  becoming  more  peopled  the  last 
year  or  so,  but  there  is  still  tolerable  hunting.  There's 
black  bear  in  plenty,  and  there's  deer,  beaver,  coon,  and 
wild  birds,  and  then  I  have  other  reasons.  This  is  nigh 
the  place  where  my  father  was  slain." 

"  Your  father  was  a  hunter,  too,  then  ?  " 

"  Aye,  aye,  he  hunted  some.  He  hunted  some,"  went 
on  the  old  hunter,  more  to  himself  than  his  auditors. 

"  And  did  Indians  kill  him?  "  asked  Dick,  becoming 
interested. 

"  He  was  captured  by  Indians  and "  The  old  man 

shook  his  head  and  then :  "  Dinner  is  nigh  ready  and  ye 
are  no  doubt  as  hungry  as  I  am  myself."  The  trapper 
led  the  way  into  the  little  cabin.  Everything  within 
was  comfortable  as  the  life  of  the  woods  could  make 
them.  A  rough  oak  table  stood  near  the  opened  window, 
a  pile  of  bear  and  deerskins  in  one  comer  near  the  fire- 
place indicated  the  place  where  the  aged  hunter  took 
his  rest  at  night,  several  rifles  hung  affectionately  on 


252  ANDE     TREMBATH 

the  branches  of  deer  antlers  o'er  the  fireplace,  and  along 
the  wall  ran  a  slab  bench  cut  from  a  split  log,  the  rounded 
side  down,  into  which  was  inserted  the  legs.  The  dinner 
of  roast  goose  was  soon  placed  on  the  table  and  the 
hungry  men  sat  down  and  did  full  justice  to  the  fare. 
The  old  hunter  fell  into  a  stage  of  taciturnity  from 
which  he  could  not  be  aroused.  Toward  the  close  of  the 
meal  the  host  again  became  talkative  and  pressed  his 
guests,  if  they  stayed  long  in  the  neighbourhood,  to  call 
as  often  as  they  liked. 

"  It's  a  bit  lonely  for  an  old  man,  and  I  like  company 
at  times,"  said  he,  as  they  were  preparing  to  leave. 
They  promised  to  come. 

The  horses  were  soon  untethered  and  mounting  they 
rode  back  to  Burgtown. 

"  Dick,"  said  Ande  in  the  privacy  of  their  own  room, 
"  I  believe  that  old  fellow  could  tell  us  something  about 
father,  possibly  about  grandfather.  I  believe  he  knows 
at  least  something  about  the  eldorado." 

"  He  looked  most  suspicious  when  you  mentioned  that 
we  were  prospectors." 

"  His  father  was  a  hunter  before  him,  and  surely  the 
one  or  the  other  must  have  met  him.  We'll  see  as  time 
goes  by.  We'll  call  upon  him  again  and  try  to  worm 
some  knowledge  out  of  him.  To-morrow  we'll  get  some- 
thing, I  believe,  from  Hugh  Lark,  that  will  bring  us 
close  to  the  mark  at  least,  I'm  a-thinking." 


CHAPTER    XXIII 

THE    EAFT    PILOt's    HOME 

"  Here  easy  quiet,  a  secure  retreat, 
A  harmless  life  that  knows  not  how  to  cheat. 
With  home-bred  pleiity — the  owner  bless. 
And  rural  pleasures  crown  his  happiness; 
Unvexed  with  quarrels,  undisturb'd  with  noise. 
The  country  king  his  peaceful  realm  enjoys." 

— Dryden. 

There  was  the  steady  tramp,  tramp  of  horses'  feet 
o'er  the  woodland  trail  and,  by  the  moon's  shimmering 
gleam  that  sifted  down  through  the  shadowy  forest 
screen  o'erhead,  two  horsemen  could  be  perceived  pick- 
ing cautiously  their  way  in  the  darkness  of  the  shadow. 
In  clear  places,  where  the  moonlight  beamed  unhindered, 
they  pressed  forward  into  a  brisk  trot  and  then  again 
slowing  down  to  a  steady  tramp  as  they  plunged  once 
more  into  some  shadow.  The  road  was  uncertain,  filled 
with  pitfalls,  stumps  of  fallen  forest  giants,  and  other 
hindrances  that  necessitated  careful  procedure.  It  was 
Ande  and  Dick  on  their  way  to  the  home  of  Hugh  Lark, 
raft-pilot,  and  squatter  on  a  ridge  of  hills,  the  water- 
shed between  the  Great  and  Little  Lycamahonings  that 
poured  their  floods  into  the  Allegheny  River.  The  hoot 
of  a  night  owl  sounded  dismally  in  the  neighbouring 
forest  and  then,  as  if  his  call  was  the  waving  of  an 
orchestra  leader's   baton,   forth  burst   in   full   chorus 

853 


254  ANDE     TREMBATH 

hundreds  of  other  birds  of  night,  the  most  with  the 
weird  song  "  Whip-poor-will,  whip-poor-will." 

The  effect  was  grewsome  and  Ande  shivered  slightly. 

*'  Dick,"  said  he,  "  I  had  a  dream  last  night  that 
troubled  me  much." 

Dick  was  all  attention. 

"  It  seemed  in  my  dream  that  I  had  found  somewhere 
a  pearl  of  great  price  and  I  cherished  it  as  I  did  my  own 
soul.  In  the  upper  Big  Lycamahoning  district  I  found 
a  large,  silver  ingot.  In  seeking  to  grasp  the  ingot  I 
lost  the  pearl,  and  I  was  filled  with  sorrow,  and  then 
the  ingot  turned  into  a  diamond  of  the  first  water  and 
I  was  glad.  I  awoke  then,  and  the  sun  was  beaming 
brightly  in  through  the  tavern  window  on  my  face." 

Ande  ceased  speaking.  Dick  was  silent  for  he  was 
thinking,  and,  though  a  good,  sincere  Methodist,  was 
slightly  superstitious. 

"  God  knows,  Ande,  what  it  all  means,  but  it  seems 
to  me  that  ee'll  lose  summat  and  gain  summat  better." 

Dick  had  spoken  partly  in  the  old  Cornish  dialect, 
which  they  frequently  spoke  when  by  themselves. 

"  Aye,  I  guess  that's  the  interpretation,"  said  Ande, 
thoughtfully.  The  way  was  pursued  in  silence  for 
some  time,  unbroken  save  by  the  tramp  of  horses'  feet 
and  the  whirring  wings  of  some  bird  whose  solitude 
was  disturbed. 

A  mile  or  so  was  passed  over  and  then  through  the 
trees  ahead  was  the  gleam  of  a  light,  and  after  a  time 
they  rode  into  Hugh  Lark's  clearing.  The  log  house, 
two  stories  in  height,  loomed  up  darkly  in  the  dusk  of 


THE     RAFT     PILOT'S     HOME      255 

evening.  The  moonlight  touched  up  its  clap-board 
roof  and  the  edges  of  its  huge  stone  chimney,  lighting 
them  fantastically,  and  through  the  greased  paper- 
paned  window  came  the  glow  of  a  fire  within,  evidently 
from  the  great  fireplace.  There  was  the  baying  of  a 
hound,  and  then  the  quick  bark  of  a  shepherd  dog  in 
concert,  and  then  the  door  opened  and  the  frame  of 
Hugh  was  outlined  against  the  inner  light. 

"  Get  back,  you  dogs !  Back  to  your  kennel,  Shep, 
and  you,  Jack,  over  to  the  barn  with  you !  "  he  bellowed, 
and  the  dogs,  that  looked  most  aggressive,  slunk  off  at 
the  word  of  their  master.  The  horses  were  soon 
fastened  to  the  rail  fence  and  the  horsemen  approached 
the  house  to  be  greeted  on  the  threshold  with  the  out- 
stretched hand  of  Hugh. 

"  Come  in,  mon,  come  in.  It's  a  cauld  nicht,  as  they 
ca'  it  in  auld  Scotland,"  and  he  grasped  each  man's 
hand  welcomingly  and  drew  them  within  and  up  to  the 
great  fireplace,  for  though  spring  had  come,  yet  the 
nights  were  cold.  Hugh  had  greeted  them  as  a  Scotch- 
man can.  Though  a  tolerably  educated  man,  yet  he  loved 
to  drop  now  and  then  back  into  his  mother  tongue. 
The  pilot's  wife,  a  comely  dame  but  little  younger  than 
himself,  sat  near  the  light  of  the  fireplace  busily  spin- 
ning. His  two  chubby  children  had  been  put  to  bed 
in  the  room  o'erhead  and  the  scene  within  was  that  of 
quiet,  home  comfort.  Bunches  of  dried  herbs  and  a  few 
hams  and  flitches  of  dried  bacon  and  deer  meat  de- 
pended from  the  rafters  of  the  ceiling.  A  few  com- 
mon prints  adorned  ^^j  rude  white-washed  walls  and 


256  ANDE     TREMBATH 

o'er  the  mantle  piece,  supported  by  deer  antlers,  was 
an  old-time  flint-lock  rifle  of  great  weight  and  heavy 
bore.  The  pilot  introduced  his  wife,  who,  having  made 
the  customary  courtesy,  resumed  her  spinning,  the 
whir,  whir  of  the  wheel  mingling  with  the  cracking  of 
the  fire-logs. 

Hugh  drew  forward  two  home-made  chairs  for  his 
visitors,  and  Ande  sat  down,  but  Dick  was  interested 
in  the  great  rifle  o'er  the  mantle  piece.  Hugh  noticed 
his  concentrated  look  on  the  old  rifle. 

"  Aye,  ye  are  looking  at  a  highly  prized  relic  in  that 
rifle.  Test  the  weight  of  it,  sir;  notice  the  large  bore 
capable  of  carrying  a  ball  the  size  of  a  schoolboy's 
marble." 

Dick  took  down  the  gun  and  examined  it. 

*'  That  rifle  could  tell  many  a  tale,  Mr.  Dick,  if  it 
could  speak.  It  was  my  father's,  Captain  Ande  Lark's 
gun.  Ye  ken  that  captains  of  sharp-shooters  in  the 
days  of  Washington  carried  guns.  A  gun  was  more 
use  to  them  then  than  all  of  the  swords  made.  Father 
fired  the  last  shot  out  of  it  in  1794,  when  he  was  mor- 
tally wounded  by  Indians  on  the  Kiskiminatas.  It  was 
this  way,"  said  Hugh,  seeing  the  look  of  interest  on 
the  faces  of  his  visitors.  "  After  the  Revolution,  the 
nation  was  heavily  indebted,  and  not  even  the  eff^orts 
of  Robert  Morris  could  save  the  nation  from  financial 
ruin  had  not  many  patriots,  among  whom  was  my 
father,  withheld  their  claims  for  service.  Some  specu- 
lating jobber  off^ered  to  trade  father  a  thousand  acres 
of  land,  where  Braddock  met  If^s  defeat,  for  the  com- 


THE     RAFT    PILOT»S     HOME       257 

mission  papers  and  his  claims.  Father  accepted,  and 
loading  up  his  goods  on  a  flat  boat  he  floated  down  the 
river  Kiskiminatas.  He  was  attacked  by  lurking 
savages  along  the  river  side  and,  although  he  succeeded 
in  bringing  down  several  of  them  by  bullets  from  *  Old 
Thump,'  " — and  the  pilot  waved  his  hand  expressively 
toward  the  old  rifle, — "  yet  he  received  a  wound  him- 
self from  which  he  afterward  died." 

Hugh  Lark  was  silent  and  his  usually  pleasant  face 
was  sober  and  sad.  There  was  a  long  pause,  unbroken 
save  by  the  puff's  and  clouds  of  ascending  tobacco 
smoke. 

"  Light  the  lamp,  Mary,"  he  at  length  said. 

Mrs.  Lark  arose  from  her  work  and  took  from  a 
receptacle  in  the  wall  a  species  of  lamp  much  used  by 
the  woodsmen.  It  consisted  of  a  turnip,  split,  and  hol- 
lowed out  within.  A  stick,  around  which  was  wrapped 
a  strip  of  oiled  linen,  was  inserted  upright  in  the  centre, 
and  the  vessel  having  been  filled  with  deer  grease  was 
ready  for  use.  The  visitors  gazed  at  this  primitive 
vessel,  that  at  best  gave  forth  but  a  dismal  light  and  a 
far  more  disagreeable  odour. 

"  Candles  are  too  much  of  a  luxury  for  us  at  present, 
so  we  still  use  the  old  turnip  lamp.  But  to  get  down 
to  business.    I  wanted  to  speak  to  you  of  prospecting." 

Hugh  poked  the  fire  logs  a  little,  and  Mrs.  Lark  arose 
and  brought  in  a  pitcher  of  home-made  cider  and  some 
drinking  vessels,  and  then  retired. 

"  Ye  must  ken  that  the  Indians  kenned  more  of  this 
country  than  we  do,  .Uving  lived  here  longer,"  said 


258  ANDE     TREMBATH 

Hugh,  as  he  raked  a  brand  from  the  fire  and  lit  his 
pipe;  and  then  without  pausing  for  an  answer  he  con- 
tinued :  "  I  have  read  much  for  a  backwoodsman  and 
know  of  how  the  spirit  of  jealousy  has  ruled  nations 
as  well  as  people.  The  same  spirit  of  jealousy  that 
led  the  Asiatics  to  conceal  from  Europeans  their  arts 
and  sciences  is  within  the  Indian  breast.  The  Phoene- 
cians,  so  I  have  read,  hid  so  truly  their  art  of  making 
their  beautiful  colour  called  Phoenecian  purple  that  to- 
day we  know  nothing  of  it.  The  pyramids  to-day  are 
monuments  of  the  lost  sciences  of  the  ancients.  There 
is  much  wealth  in  the  hills  of  the  country,  known  to  the 
Indian  alone.  Father  thought  the  same  as  I  did  and 
was  convinced  of  it  by  a  wound  he  received  in  an  Indian 
expedition  with  the  famous  Sam  Brady.  His  wound 
was  probed  and  the  bullet  ye  see  tied  to  the  old  lock 
by  a  cord  was  the  one  taken  out  of  the  wound."  Both 
examined  the  silver  bullet  that  was  attached  to  the  lock 
of  "  Old  Thump." 

"  He  found  the  mine.  Then  you  know  its  location, 
Mr.  Lark.?" 

"  Perhaps  we  had  best  have  an  understanding  first, 
before  I  say  much  more.  If  ye  are  agreed  to  give  me 
a  fair  share  with  yourselves  we  will  go  ahead." 

"  We  are  perfectly  agreed,  and  more.  If  you  give 
my  friend,  Dick,  a  share,  I  desire  nothing." 

Hugh  looked  mystified  at  Ande  and  said  partly  in 
the  Scotch  dialect,  "  And  ye're  not  after  the  siller 
yoursel'  ?  " 

Ande  seeing  that  he  must  efiplain,  related  the  tale 


THE     RAFT     PILOT'S     HOME      269 

of  his  grandfather's  dishonour,  and  Hugh,  with  various 
nods  and  puffs,  listened. 

"  Aye,  I  see,  I  see,"  said  Hugh ;  "  and  ye  think  the 
unearthing  of  this  Indian  mine  will  bring  to  light  your 
family  honour.  Ye  said  the  other  night  that  ye  were 
prospecting  for  character,  and  we  thought  it  was  a 
joke  on  the  tavern  keeper,"  and  Hugh's  features  re- 
laxed into  a  smile.  "  But  now  for  my  tale.  Indians 
appear  here,  from  the  Shawnee  tribes  in  the  west,  every 
few  years.  They  remain  for  a  time  and  then  disappear. 
Some  say  they  come  for  hunting,  some  for  to  visit  the 
graves  of  their  tribe,  but  I  always  had  my  own  opinions. 
Some  years  ago  there  was  a  great  flood  and  we  rafts- 
men went  down  to  get  the  rafts  in  safer  positions.  I 
was  busy  piloting  when  I  thought  I  saw  something  out 
on  the  waters.  It  was  not  a  rock  nor  a  piece  of  drift- 
wood, and  after  I  had  almost  wearied  my  eyes  I  saw 
it  was  the  head  of  a  man.  I  gave  the  oar  to  Tom,  the 
fellow  ye  saved  from  the  tree  the  other  day,  Mr.  Dick, 
and  flung  out  a  rope.  It  fell  nigh  the  fellow  and  we 
dragged  him  in,  and  if  it  wasn't  a  half-breed  Indian, 
a  Canadian,  so  he  afterward  told  me.  He  was  far 
from  his  tribe  and  people  and  had  hurt  himself  in  some 
scrimmage  or  other  with  a  wild  animal.  After  we  got 
the  raft  safe  in  good  quarters,  we  took  him  up  to  our 
place  here  and  nursed  him  for  many  a  day  until  he  was 
ready  to  leave,  and  then  he  showed  what  stuff'  he  was 
made  off".  He  wanted  to  reward  me  for  my  kindness. 
By  his  directions  I  got  some  paper  and  a  pen  and  drew 
off  a  rude  map  of  the  Big  Lycamahoning  region.  After 


260  ANDE     TREMBATH 

it  was  made  he  put  his  brown  finger  on  a  certain  sec- 
tion and  said,  *  If  white  man  know  what  under  there 
they  shoe  their  oxen  with  silver.'  Here's  the  map," 
and  Hugh  took  from  an  inner  pocket  of  his  woollen 
wamus  a  rude  roll  of  paper  which  he  spread  out  for 
their  view  near  the  old  turnip  lamp.  Ande  took  out 
his  father's  map  and  compared  it  with  the  other. 

"  Ye  have  a  map,  too,"  said  Hugh. 

**  The  one  sent  me  years  ago  by  my  father." 

The  two  maps  coincided  in  all  the  essential  features. 

"  And  now  we  know  the  place  and  the  only  thing 
that  remains  for  us  is  to  set  the  date  of  going  on  our 
search.  The  first  night  of  the  full  moon  would  be  best 
suited  to  our  purpose.  And  there  must  be  another  let 
into  the  secret,  for  we  can't  get  along  handily  without 
the  use  of  the  only  canoe  on  the  Big  Creek,  and  that's 
Hunter  Tom  of  the  Loop,"  said  Hugh. 

"  Who's  Hunter  Tom?  "  asked  Dick. 

"  He's  a  queer  old  character,  and  has  been  in  the 
neighbourhood  of  the  Big  Creek  for  the — well — as  long 
as  any  of  us  around  here,  and  for  a  great  time  longer. 
He's  a  hunter  and  has  a  cabin  over  in  a  little  clearing 
alongside  of  the  Big  Creek." 

"  The  very  man  we  ate  dinner  with  the  other  day,'* 
said  Ande,  and  turning  to  Hugh  he  related  the  circum- 
stances of  their  adventure. 

"  The  very  same  man,  and  a  better  guide  and  hunter 
none  ever  saw,"  replied  Hugh,  emphatically.  Good- 
nights  were  now  spoken,  and,  mounting,  the  young  men 
rode  back  to  Burgtown. 


CHAPTER   XXIV 

THE    HUNTER    OF    THE    LOOP 

Several  times  had  Ande  and  Dick  visited  the  old 
hunter's  cabin  in  the  Loop,  and  there  was  a  growing 
friendship  between  the  old  trapper  and  the  young  men. 
They  told  him  quite  a  little  of  their  travels,  but  never 
mentioned  the  mines  of  Brazil.  Once  the  hunter  men- 
tioned that  he  had  been  a  soldier  under  Brock  and  had 
been  a  hunter  ever  since.  New  hope  sprang  up  within 
the  breast  of  Ande.  If  this  old  hunter  had  been  in  the 
service  of  Brock  and  had  travelled  the  American  wilds 
for  such  a  time  he  must  surely  have  met  his  father.  At 
length  the  question  found  utterance. 

"  You  were  in  the  service  of  Brock.  Did  you  ever 
meet  one  of  my  name  either  in  the  army  or  afterwards. 
My  father  was  in  his  service  and  possibly  you  may 
have  met  him." 

"  One  of  your  name, — thy  father?  No,  no,  Mr. 
Ande,  I  know  naught.  None  of  that  name  has  ever 
met  me." 

Ande,  having  received  this  reply,  had  not  the  temerity 
to  push  his  inquiry  further.  He  admired  the  old 
hunter  for  his  kind  disposition,  and  especially  because 
he  had  seen  service  under  Brock.  He  had  frequently 
tried  to  get  him  to  relate  tales  of  battles  and  adven- 

261 


262  ANDE     TREMBATH 

tures,  but  the  old  man  was  of  a  taciturn  nature,  a 
quality  born  in  him  by  his  years  of  woodcraft.  But 
his  taciturnity  did  not  hinder  their  intimacy  or  his 
friendship.  He  had  given  them  rare  treats  in  canoe- 
ing; night  after  night  they  had  dropped  down  with 
the  stream  to  the  shelter  of  willows,  and  secure  from 
observation  had  quietly  awaited  the  coming  of  the  deer 
to  slake  their  thirst  at  the  margin  of  the  stream.  On 
one  occasion  he  had  taken  them  with  him  through  the 
Rough  Water,  shooting  the  rapids  with  consummate 
skill,  and  pointing  out  to  them  the  marks  of  interest, 
such  as  Pilot  Rock  or  Shawnee  Rock,  Driftwood,  the 
Sluice  and  others. 

It  was  the  evening  just  before  the  full  moon  when 
they  made  their  last  trip,  still-hunting  for  deer.  They 
had  dropped  down  with  the  current,  and  had  just 
secluded  their  craft  beneath  the  willows  when  harsh, 
guttural,  sometimes  musical  voices  were  heard  on  shore, 
at  some  distance.  The  old  hunter  placed  a  warning 
hand  on  the  shoulder  of  Ando,  and  with  the  whisper  of 
"  Hist ! "  they  listened.  Bidding  the  young  men  be 
silent,  and  on  no  account  to  move  from  their  position, 
the  old  trapper  slipped  up  o'er  the  bank  and  in  an  in- 
stant was  gone  from  sight.  The  same  voices  continued 
for  the  space  of  many  minutes  without  interruption, 
and  then,  as  cautiously  as  he  had  withdrawn,  the  hunter 
returned.  With  finger  on  his  lip  to  indicate  silence  he 
cautiously  dipped  the  paddle,  and  they  moved  silently 
up  stream,  skirting  the  willows  in  their  journey.  When 
beyond  hearing  distance  he  spoke  in  audible  tones. 


THE     HUNTER     OF     THE     LOOP    263 

"  The  Shawnese  are  in  the  land.  They  must  have 
come  up  from  the  Ohio." 

**  But  they  are  peaceful,  no  doubt?  " 

"  Aye,  they  are  peaceful ;  but  I  always  mistrust 
them.  The  cruelties  they  heaped  upon  my  father  and 
the  cruelties  that  I  have  witnessed  at  their  hands  have 
always  made  them  hateful  to  me." 

"  How  do  you  know  that  they  are  Shawnese .''  "  asked 
Dick. 

"  How  do  I  know,  lad?  I  have  had  more  dealings 
with  the  Indians  and  the  Shawnese  than  any  one  around 
this  section.  I  remember  the  time  I  met  Tecumseh  and 
his  brother,  the  Prophet,  in  the  Ohio  region  years  ago, 
and  their  language  is  as  familiar  to  me  as  my  own. 
The  silver  mine  that  the  pilot  was  a-telling  ye  of  was 
even  then  current  among  them,  but  more  as  a  legend 
than  as  an  active  fact." 

"  The  silver  mine  ?  " 

"  Aye,  the  silver  mine.  Haven't  I  searched  for  it, 
and  found  it  not.  I  searched  for  it  until  I  was  weary, 
and  then  I  gave  it  up.  Of  what  value  is  silver  or  gold 
to  me  now.  My  friends  are  all  dead,  and  I,  myself, 
have  not  so  many  years  to  live  that  I  should  delve  after 
the  curse  of  earth.  Two  years  after  I  left  the  old  Dart 
I  swore,  on  the  receipt  of  news  of  the  death  of  my  dear 

ones,  never  to  return,  unless, "     The  old  hunter 

was  silent. 

"Unless?" 

"  Not  unless  I  accomplish  my  purpose  here.  I  came 
not  here  as  a  hunter,  lad,  alone ; — there  were  other  pur- 


264  ANDE     TREMBATH 

poses,  vain  probably  now."  There  was  an  element  of 
sadness  in  the  hunter's  tone.  "  And  yet  I  should  like 
to  see  the  old  home  once  more.    It  is  very  dear  to  me. 

"  'Ah,  happy  hills!     Ah,  pleasing  shade  I 
Ah,  fields  beloved  in  vain! 
Where  once  my  careless  childhood  strayed 
A  stranger  yet  to  pain! 
I  feel  the  gales  that  from  ye  blow, 
A  momentary  bliss  bestow, 
As  waving  fresh,  their  gladsome  wing 
My  weary  soul  they  seem  to  soothe. 
And  redolent  of  joy  and  youth 
To  breathe  a  second  spring.' " 

"Why,  Hunter  Tom,  that's  Gray's  Ode  to  Eton 
College,"  said  Ande  with  increased  respect. 

"  Aye,  sirs,  ye  are  a  bit  surprised  to  hear  an  old  back- 
woodsman and  hunter  quote  that,  but  I  have  a  right 
to  it,  for  I  was  an  Etonian,  myself,  in  younger  days." 

The  keel  of  the  light  canoe  grated  on  the  rocky 
shingle  of  the  Loop  shore.  Hunter  Tom  had  insisted 
on  going  straight  to  his  cabin  on  his  discovery  of  the 
Shawnese.  The  young  men  waited  until  early  dawn 
and  then  started  for  Burgtown.  On  the  way  they  met 
Hugh  Lark  astride  of  his  gray  mare. 

"  Hallo !  hitting  the  trail  as  usual !  Well,  we'll  have 
a  different  trail  to-night.  We  meet  at  Hunter  Tom's 
place  at  eight  o'clock  and  set  out  from  there.  See  ye 
to-night,"  and  Hugh  was  oflF  up  the  trail. 

"  Hunter  Tom  is  a  queer  character,"  said  Ande  to 
Dick,  as  they  continued  their  way.  "  He's  a  combina- 
tion of  the  old  hunter  and  the  scholarly  civilian.     It's 


THE     HUNTER     OF     THE     LOOP    265 

a  wonder  we  never  heard  of  his  scholarly  attainments 
before.'* 

"  From  what  I  have  heard,  he  doesn't  mix  up  with 
the  people  around  here.  What  a  marvellous  woodsman 
he  is,  and  how  silently  he  approached  the  Shawnese 
camp ! " 

The  log  houses  of  Burgtown  hove  in  sight,  and  they 
dropped  all  conversation  as  they  rode  up  through  the 
double  row  of  log  homes  and  alighted  at  the  tavern  of 
Peter  Burke. 


CHAPTER   XXV 

eureka!  the  eldosado! 

"  So  the  boat's  brawny  crew  the  current  stem 
And,  slow  advancing,  struggle  with  the  stream; 
But  if  they  slack  their  hands  or  cease  to  strive, 
Then  down  the  flood  with  headlong  haste  they  drive." 

— Dryden. 

It  was  still  early  dawn  when  Hugh  Lark  reached  the 
hunter's  cabin.  Hunter  Tom  was  cleaning  his  rifle 
and  before  the  door  was  a  pot  of  lead  melting  o'er  a 
slow  fire.  A  bullet  mould  was  lying  near  by  ready  for 
use. 

**  Halloo,  Tom ! "  said  Hugh,  as  he  dismounted. 

**  Good-morning,"  said  the  old  hunter,  a  little  curtly 
and  yet  with  some  dignity,  for  he  liked  not  the  uncere- 
monious manner  of  Hugh,  though  Hugh  was  the  only 
intimate  acquaintance  he  had  resident  in  the  neighbour- 
hood. 

"  Groing  hunting?  " 

"  No,"  said  the  old  hunter,  a  little  more  friendly. 
*'  I  was  down  the  creek  and  saw  some  Shawnese." 

"  Why,  ye  don't  expect  a  brush  with  them  in  these 
days  of  peace?  " 

"  I  tell  ye,"  said  the  old  man,  testily,  "  those  were 
the  enemies  of  my  father  and,  peace  or  no  peace,  I 

266 


EUREKA!  THE  ELDORADO!  267 

trust  them  not  unless  I  have  Brown  Bess  ready  and  a 
quantity  of  powder  and  ball  nigh  at  hand,"  and  he 
continued  his  polishing  and  oiling. 

"  Well,  we  have  some  work  and  we  would  like  to  have 
ye  along,  if  ye  can  go."  The  old  man  made  room  for 
him  on  the  rude  bench,  and  looked  at  him  inquiringly. 
Hugh  related  the  purposed  expedition. 

"  And  ye  think  there  is  a  silver  mine,  and  ye  want  me 
to  help  find  it,  and  if  I  do  I  go  fair  shares  ?  " 

"  Aye,"  and  Hugh  nodded.  "  Ye  see'  there  are  two 
young  chaps,  travellers,  prospectors;  they  say  they 
know  ye " 

"  Aye !  ye  mean  the  English  travellers,  Mr.  Ande  and 
Mr.  Dick." 

"  Well,  ye  see  they  are  prospectors  and  know  the 
real  stuff  when  they  see  it." 

"  So  they  told  me,"  said  the  old  man,  nodding. 

**  Well,  we  want  ye  to  go  along  and  use  your  big 
canoe.  I  calculate  between  your  intimate  knowledge 
of  the  section  and  their  prospecting  science  and  my 
divining  rod  that  we  can  get  at  the  bottom  of  this. 
To-night  will  be  full  moon  and  we  would  like  to  start 
from  your  place  for  up  stream  about  eight  o'clock." 

"  Aye,"  said  the  old  hunter,  but  he  looked  a  bit 
dubious  when  Hugh  mentioned  the  divining  rod.  Hugh 
was  a  firm  believer  in  the  accuracy  of  the  rod  that  he 
had  constructed.  It  was  witch-hazel,  curiously  carved 
and  with  a  bit  of  silver  at  the  end  of  it.  The  principle, 
according  to  Hugh's  statement,  was  like  attracted 
like. 


268  ANDE     TREMBATH 

"  Well,  I'll  go,"  said  the  old  man,  after  some 
thought.  "  I  warn  ye,  though,  to  take  your  guns  with 
ye,  for  the  Shawnese  are  here.'* 

"  Oh,  they'll  give  us  no  trouble,  but  we'll  take  our 
guns.  There  may  be  a  chance  of  shooting  a  deer  or 
so,"  said  Hugh  as  he  departed.  The  old  man  shook 
his  head,  forebodingly,  as  Hugh's  form  disappeared 
down  the  trail.  On  his  way  back  to  Burgtown  the  pilot 
met  the  Shawnese,  a  full  fifteen  in  number,  great,  strong, 
athletic  fellows,  but  beyond  a  brief,  cursory  "  Howdy !  " 
and  a  glance  they  passed  on. 

At  about  seven  o'clock  that  evening  Hugh  Lark  rode 
up  to  the  tavern  of  Burgtown.  Burke,  the  tavern 
keeper,  met  him  at  the  entrance. 

"  Going  rafting,  Hugh?  " 

"  No.     Air  the  two  strangers  here?  " 

"  Been  rafting?  " 

"  No.     Air  Mr.  Ande  and  Mr.  Dick  here  ?  " 

*'  But  ye  surely  have  more  rafts  to  run,  Hugh  ?  " 

"  Ye  ken  well  enou'  that  I'm  not  a-going  rafting. 
How  could  I  go  rafting  a-horseback.  But  perhaps 
ye  think  that  I  can  get  the  gray  mare  to  pull  an  oar,  and 
I've  no  doubt  that  she  could  do  that,  for  she  has  a  heap 
more  sense  than  some  men  I  know  that  are  not  very 
far  from  me,"  said  Hugh,  exasperated. 

**  Yes,  the  mare  has  great  sense,"  replied  Peter, 
gazing  at  the  animal  with  a  bland  eye.  "  I  kalkilate 
you  uns  air  going  to  find  that  mine,  Hugh?  " 

"  We  are  going  a-hunting,"  said  the  nettled  Hugh. 


EUREKA!  THE  ELDORADO!  269 

At  this  moment  Ande  and  Dick  came  forth  upon  the 
long  porch,  and  Hugh's  anger  was  mollified. 

"  Are  ye  ready  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  Ande,  and  the  next  moment  two  horses 
were  led  around  to  the  front  by  the  stable  lad  and  they 
vaulted  into  their  saddles  and  prepared  to  leave. 

"  I  say,  Mr.  Ande," — the  tavern  keeper  had  the  habit 
of  calling  them  by  their  first  names,  perhaps  from 
Hugh's  custom — "  I  say,  air  you  uns  a-going  hunting 
fer  thet  mine.?  " 

Ande  gazed  at  the  curious  tavern  keeper  gravely 
and  then  responded: 

"  The  primary  intention  of  our  nocturnal  expedition 
is  to  reconnoitre  the  situation  of  the  argentiferous 
fissures  indigenous  to  this  locality,  the  elucidation  of 
which  will  be  beneficial  to  us  and  of  salient  value  to 
the  community  at  large." 

"  Oh,  I  thought  you  uns  were  a-going  to  find  the 
mine,"  said  Burke,  apologetically,  and  as  they  rode  off 
he  said,  to  himself,  "  Wot  langwidge !  wot  a  scholard ! 
He  beats  Bill,  but, — dang  it,  if  I  believe  they're  going 
fishing,  though.  They  hain't  no  hooks  or  rods  and 
who  ever  heam  tell  of  a  man  going  fishing  with  a 
gun." 

So  saying,  he  went  within. 

The  sun  had  gone  down  and  twilight  was  creeping 
on,  enveloping  the  earth  with  its  soft  hazy  light,  as 
the  three  rode  over  the  lower  bridge  and  o'er  the  trail 
to  the  forks  of  the  creek.  The  moon  was  not  up,  but 
it  was  twilight  still  when  they  forded  the  Big  Creek 


270  ANDE    TREMBATH 

and  turned  up  the  trail  to  Hunter  Tom's  cabin.  A 
short  distance,  and  a  glimmering  light  penetrated  the 
trees  and  underbrush  ahead. 

*'  Some  one  on  the  trail,"  said  Dick. 

"  No,"  responded  the  pilot,  "  'tis  a  light  from  Hunter 
Tom's  cabin.  The  old  man  must  be  getting  ready  to 
start." 

The  light  was  dimmed  by  a  brighter  effulgence 
beyond.  A  rim  of  silver  shoved  itself  above  the  neigh- 
bouring hills,  and  then  a  semi-circular  disc,  gradually 
growing  in  brightness  and  flooding  hill  and  ravine  with 
mellow  light.  Giant  boulders  and  tree  trunks  were  sil- 
houtted  against  its  rising  disc,  and  on  a  tree  branch  just 
athwart  the  centre  was,  grotesque  and  huge,  the  figure 
of  the  lone  bird  of  night — an  owl. 

"  Plenty  of  light  to-night,"  said  Hugh. 

*'  But  not  more  than  we  need ;  the  search  will  require 
all  the  light  we  can  get,"  said  Ande. 

They  arrived  at  Hunter  Tom's  cabin  and  dismounted. 
The  horses  were  hobbled  and  turned  out  to  graze  in  the 
clearing.  Tom,  hearing  the  noise,  opened  the  door,  and 
cheerfully  welcomed  them  within.  The  hunter  was 
clothed  in  his  customary  fringed  buckskin  and  home- 
made moccasins,  but  in  his  belt,  in  addition  to  the  usual 
hunting  knife,  was  a  small  Indian  tomahawk. 

"  Why,  Tom,  one  would  think  ye  were  on  the  war- 
path," said  the  pilot,  jokingly. 

"  Aye,  and  a  warpath  it  may  prove,"  soberly,  and 
then  seeing  the  look  of  the  pilot  concentrated  on  the 
tomahawk  in  his  belt :     "  This  tomahawk  I  secured  in 


EUREKA!  THE  ELDORADO!  271 

the  Indian  country  of  the  Ohio  in  1812.    It  is  an  effec- 
tive weapon." 

"  But  surely  you  don't  expect  a  fight,"  said  Dick. 

The  old  man  shook  his  hoary  locks  mysteriously  and 
muttered,  "  The  Shawnese." 

By  the  light  of  the  turnip  lamp  the  pilot  brought 
forth  his  map  and  spread  it  out  on  the  rough  wooden 
table.     The  hunter  scanned  it  approvingly,  and  then: 

"  Where  did  ye  get  it,  Hugh.?  " 

The  pilot  related  his  experience  with  the  Canadian 
Indian,  and  the  hunter  nodded  his  head  as  the  pilot 
repeated  the  Indian  legend  and  directions. 

"  I  know  the  place  so  well  that  ye  have  no  need  of  a 
map." 

"  Ye  ken  the  place  without  a  map  ?  "  said  Hugh. 

**Aye!  haven't  I  searched  for  it  full  eighteen  years 
ago,  and  ten  years  ago,  before  there  was  a  settler  in  the 
region ;  I  hunted  until  I  was  weary.  If  ye  find  no  more 
success  than  I  found,  ye  will  have  your  labour  for  your 
pains.  But  we  can  try.  The  place  where  we  will  land 
is  there."  The  hunter  placed  his  knotty  finger  on  a  por- 
tion of  the  map.    All  crowded  around  the  table. 

The  old  hunter's  finger  was  placed  on  the  map  at  the 
mouth  of  a  small  stream.  A  moment  passed  in  silent 
contemplation. 

"  And  now  we  must  be  off  If  we  would  do  much 
to-night."  The  old  hunter's  words  aroused  all  to  action. 
A  couple  of  pickaxes,  a  shovel  and  a  crowbar,  that  were 
in  readiness,  were  shouldered  by  the  pilot,  and  Dick, 
at  the  hunter's  suggestion,  took  up  an  old  tin  lantern, 


272  ANDE     TREMBATH 

pierced  with  holes  and  having  a  candle  within,  to  be  used 
in  an  emergency.  The  hunter  carefully  extinguished 
the  turnip  lamp  and  drawing  the  door  shut  behind  him 
led  the  way  to  the  canoe.  The  tools  were  placed  in  the 
stern  and  then  the  pilot,  followed  in  regular  sequence 
by  the  hunter,  Dick  and  Ande,  took  their  stations,  and 
soon  under  the  steady  sweep  of  four  stout  paddles  the 
canoe,  though  heavily  laden,  glided  up  stream. 

The  evening  was  still,  save  for  the  cry  of  some  wild 
bird  of  night  and  the  plash  of  some  wavelet  breaking  on 
the  shelving  shore.  Trees  and  shrubbery,  underbrush  of 
the  shores,  glided  by  slowly,  and  were  swallowed  up  in  the 
obscurity  of  the  regions  passed.  Here  and  there  with  a 
skilful  sweep  of  the  paddle  the  pilot  changed  the  course 
of  the  canoe  to  escape  contact  with  some  rock  or  sunken 
log.  Now  and  then  the  hunter  would  give  a  sign  of 
silence,  and  the  paddles  in  their  incessant  sweep  would 
be  stilled  into  inactivity,  while  the  canoe  would  drift  for 
a  moment  until  the  hand  of  the  pilot  in  the  bow  grasped 
some  over-swinging  tree  branch  and  stayed  her  down- 
ward course.  A  moment  of  silence,  in  which  the  hunter 
strained  his  ears,  would  ensue,  and  then  with  a  shake  of 
the  head  he  would  give  the  sign  to  proceed.  Once  he 
insisted  much  to  the  protests  of  the  pilot  of  going 
ashore.  They  drew  in  to  the  heavily  wooded  bank  and 
he  disappeared  with  no  change  on  his  immovable 
countenance.  The  pilot  grumbled  to  himself  at  this 
unnecessary  caution.  The  old  man  was  in  his  dotage 
or  had  become  filled  with  childish  fear,  thought  he,  and 
so  he  informed  the  others  when  the  hunter  was  absent. 


EUREKA!  THE  ELDORADO!  273 

Who  was  going  to  hurt  them?  Not  the  settlers,  for  they 
were  all  safe  abed  by  this  time.  Not  that  wandering 
band  of  Shawnese.  It  would  be  too  perilous  for  them  in 
these  days  of  peace  and  in  a  section  already  vacated  by 
their  fathers  to  make  room  for  the  settlers.  After  the 
first  hour  the  work  of  paddling  became  less  arduous,  the 
force  of  the  current  had  abated,  and  they  shot  into  a 
long  stretch  of  slightly  moving  water. 

"  Still  Water,"  said  the  pilot.  "  It  '11  be  easy  from 
now  on  until  we  reach  some  distance  above." 

"  Aye,"  murmured  the  hunter ;  "  but  it  '11  not  be  still 
for  long." 

"  No  sign  of  rain ;  the  sky  up  there  is  so  closely 
studded  with  stars  that  there's  not  room  for  a  cloud. 
There'll  be  no  rain,  or  I'm  no  pilot.  Haven't  I  piloted 
here  for  years,  and  before  I  came  to  this  region  I  run 
as  many  rafts  down  the  Susquehanna  as  any  raftsman 
in  the  State." 

The  hunter  raised  his  hand  as  if  deprecating  the  sound 
of  the  pilot's  voice,  and  then  said  in  low  tones : 

"  I  have  lived  in  the  cabin  at  the  Loop  for  nigh  ten 
years,  and  have  tramped  these  regions  before  my  cabin 
was  built,  and  I  can  read  the  stream  as  well  as  a  scholar 
reads  his  book.  In  three  hours  what  we  call  the  '  Still 
Water '  will  be  running  like  a  mill  race." 

The  pilot  smiled  a  smile  of  superior  wisdom. 

"  Look,"  said  the  hunter,  as  he  dipped  his  palm  in 
the  water  and  drew  up  a  little  for  the  pilot's  inspection. 
"  The  stream  is  turbid  and  discoloured,  the  first  sign  of 
the  coming  flood.     There  has  been  great  rain  at  the 


«74  ANDE     TREMBATH 

headwaters.  I  can  see  it  in  the  water ;  I  can  smell  it  in 
the  air." 

The  pilot's  smile  left  his  features  and  he  scanned  the 
bosom  of  the  Still  Water  and  then ; 

"  There's  some  truth  in  that." 

"  Aye,"  said  the  hunter,  "  and  if  we  would  get  to  the 
place  we  must  paddle  as  strongly  as  possible.  There's 
the  swifter  water  beyond." 

All  bent  to  the  paddles  again  with  renewed  efforts 
and  the  Still  Water  was  soon  passed,  and  the  heavier 
paddling  in  the  swifter  water  of  the  upper  stream  fol- 
lowed. Now  they  were  in  the  shadow  of  some  towering 
hill  or  under  the  dark  tree  boughs — that  interlaced  and 
formed  a  dark  canopy  overhead;  now  again  the  canoe 
shot  out  into  a  flood  of  pale  moonlight.  The  latter  the 
hunter  disapproved  and  the  pilot,  grumbling,  changed 
the  course  at  times,  avoiding  the  moonlight  sections  of 
the  stream  for  the  shadowy  regions  along  the  shores. 
At  length  the  hills  receded  from  the  stream  on  the  right 
and  gave  place  to  a  gently  rising  plain,  burdened  with 
oaks  and  wild  grasses,  while  the  hills  to  the  left  seemed 
to  be  higher  and  more  precipitous  than  those  down 
stream. 

**  The  place  is  nigh  here,"  said  the  hunter. 

They  rested  on  their  paddles  for  a  moment  in  the 
shadow  of  a  great  boulder  that  stayed  the  downward 
drift  of  the  canoe.  Ande  and  the  pilot  instinctively 
felt  for  their  maps  and  tried  to  refresh  their  memory  in 
reference  to  the  directions,  but  the  dim  light  almost 
made  it  useless.     Hunter  Tom,  in  the  meantime,  was 


EUREKA!  THE  ELDORADO!   275 

scanning  the  stream  and  shores  and  seemed  to  be  ill  at 
ease. 

"  The  -mouth  of  the  little  run  is  but  a  dozen  rods  up 
stream.  Ye  can  put  away  the  maps,  lads,  for  I  know 
the  place."  At  the  words  of  Hunter  Tom  both  Ande 
and  the  pilot  dropped  their  maps  in  the  canoe,  and  all 
bending  to  the  paddles  while  the  hunter  with  his  keen 
sight  directed  their  movements,  they  moved  on.  Then 
came  the  babbling,  rippling  sound  of  a  little  run  as  it 
leaped,  gurgling  with  delight,  into  the  stream,  like  a 
child  into  the  arms  of  its  mother.  The  craft  was  turned 
to  shore  and  soon  grated  on  the  pebbly  beach.  They 
stepped  ashore  and  stretched  their  cramped  limbs,  while 
Hunter  Tom  tied  the  canoe  to  a  swaying  pine,  and  then 
pursuing  his  directions,  they  followed  up  the  run.  Ten 
yards  up  the  run  a  divided  oak  was  located. 

"  Now,"  said  the  Hunter,  as  he  gazed  around  uneasily, 
"  fifty  yards  due  north." 

Dick,  having  a  pocket  compass,  now  took  the  lead, 
following  a  course  due  north,  and  in  the  rear  was  the 
pilot  balancing  his  divining  rod,  while  Ande  as  closely 
as  possible  measured  the  distance.  Hunter  Tom,  taking 
little  interest  in  the  affair,  seemed  to  concentrate  his 
attention  on  the  trees,  underbrush  and  regions  around 
about. 

"  'Tis  here,  as  near  as  I  can  calculate  it,  that  the  fifty 
yards  end,"  said  Ande. 

"  And  the  divining  rod  says  the  same,  and  it  tells 
truth,"  said  Hugh,  the  pilot,  with  a  little  triumph  in  his 
tones. 


276  ANDE     TREMBATH 

**  My  calculations,  heretofore,  located  the  spot  a  bit 
beyond,"  said  the  hunter,  with  the  first  interest  he  had 
betrayed  since  they  landed.     "  Ye  may  be  right." 

Dick  and  the  pilot  grasped  the  pickaxes  and  set  to 
work  with  vigour,  while  Ande  used  the  shovel  and  occa- 
sionally removed  with  his  hands  some  large  boulder  that 
impeded  their  work.  The  hunter  seemed  to  constitute 
himself  watchman  and  was  incessantly  on  guard.  The 
work  went  on  for  an  hour,  and  considerable  debris  was 
removed  when  Dick's  pickaxe  slipped  from  his  hands  and 
disappeared  from  sight.  With  an  exclamation  he  leaned 
forward  and  found  that  it  had  disappeared  in  an  old 
excavation  a  few  feet  in  depth.  The  excavation  was 
widened  and  the  pilot,  leaping  in,  began  to  work  with 
increased  vigour.  Hunter  Tom  now  became  as  deeply 
interested  as  the  others.  It  was  at  a  spot  that  he  had 
not  investigated  before.  That  old  excavation  must  mean 
something,  he  thought. 

There  was  the  sound  of  a  metallic  click  as  the  pilot's 
implement  struck  something  hard.  With  an  exclamation 
of  "  I've  found  it,"  he  reached  down  and  grasped  some- 
thing which  he  handed  up  to  Ande  for  investigation.  It 
was  a  small  tobacco  or  snufF-box  of  ancient  make. 

"  Time  enough  to  look  at  that  when  we  find  the  ore,'* 
said  Ande,  as  he  placed  it  in  his  inside  pocket.  The 
work  was  again  resumed.  The  labour  of  excavation  now 
became  harder  and  Dick  with  his  great  strength  took  the 
pilot's  place.  At  length  a  peculiar,  grey,  metallic  sub- 
stance rewarded  their  labour.  A  handful  of  small  cubes 
and  octahedral  pebbles  were  passed  up  for  inspection. 


EUREKA!  THE  ELDORADO!  277 

The  tin  lantern  was  lighted  and  around  about  clustered 
the  pilot,  Dick,  and  the  hunter,  while  Ande  held  the 
handful  close  to  the  flame. 

*'  The  grey,  metallic  lustre  looks  like  silver  glance.  It 
may  be  the  blossom  of  sulphide  of  silver  or  sulphide  of 
lead.  We  ought  to  have  daylight  for  a  better  examina- 
tion," said  Ande ;  "  now " 

Crack!  Crack!  Crack! 

Crack!  Crack!  Crack! 

There  was  the  whistling  of  bullets  in  the  trees  around 
them,  and  spiteful  thuds  as  leaden  missiles  flattened 
themselves  against  the  rocks.  The  lantern  fell  with  a 
crash  to  the  ground,  perforated  with  a  dozen  bullets. 
The  candle  sputtered  and  went  out. 

"  Quick !  "  shouted  Hunter  Tom.  "  'Tis  the  Shawnese. 
Aye,  I  feared  it." 

The  pilot  grasped  his  rifle  and  the  prospectors  theirs. 

"  This  way !  To  the  canoe !  "  roared  Tom,  and  slip- 
ping from  tree  to  tree,  they  reached  the  landing  in 
breathless  haste.  Then  came  a  yell  that  echoed  through 
the  hills,  a  yell — ^hellish  and  replete  with  rage.  Trust- 
ing in  their  numbers,  scorning  concealment  and  fearing 
their  victims  would  escape,  the  Shawnese  charged  after 
them.  At  the  landing  there  was  a  sanguine  scene,  and 
now  it  was  that  old  Tom  showed  the  experience  and  skill 
he  had  gained  in  the  Ohio  region.  Stationing  himself 
behind  a  tree  the  old  hoary-headed  hunter  fired,  loaded, 
and  fired  again  and  again,  and  each  time  by  the  yell  the 
bullet  had  found  a  mark.  But  the  Shawnese  were  now 
close  at  hand  and  a  hand  to  hand  conflict  ensued  that  was 


278  ANDE     TREMBATH 

savage  in  the  extreme.  Hunter  Tom  seemed  to  be  pos- 
sessed with  the  fury  of  a  madman.  The  presence  of  the 
foes  that  had  tortured  his  father  seemed  to  fill  him  with 
a  wrath  that  was  demoniacal.  With  clubbed  rifle  he  beat 
back  the  foremost  and  sent  him  to  the  ground,  lifeless, 
then  with  a  swift  turn  he  flung  the  useless  weapon  into 
the  canoe,  and  with  knife  and  tomahawk  gave  blows 
right  and  left.  Swifter  than  a  weaver's  shuttle  the 
bright  weapons  flashed  in  the  pale  moonlight.  Nor 
was  the  hunter  alone  active  in  the  fray,  for  Dick — great 
Dick,  made  more  eff^ective  use  of  the  butt  of  his  gun  than 
the  muzzle  by  using  it  as  a  farmer  would  his  flail.  Ande 
and  the  pilot,  for  a  time,  had  fired  from  a  natural  breast- 
works of  boulders  along  the  shore,  but  the  proximity  of 
the  enemy  was  so  close  that  they,  too,  were  compelled  to 
resort  to  the  butts  of  their  guns.  At  one  time  the  pilot 
was  down,  but  the  dusky  face  over  him  went  down  a 
moment  later  under  a  crashing  sweep  of  Ande's  gun. 
The  desperate  valour  of  these  few  men  was  beginning  to 
tell  upon  the  spirits  of  their  foes.  One-third  of  their 
number  were  upon  the  ground,  dead  or  helpless.  There 
was  a  shout  and  a  few  unintelligible  words  among  them, 
and  then,  as  if  in  concert,  they  began  to  retreat  slowly, 
followed  by  the  impetuosity  of  Dick  and  Ande.  Tom 
thanked  his  good  fortune  then  for  his  understanding  of 
the  Shawnese  tongue;  he  understood  their  plan  to  draw 
them  from  the  shore  and  to  give  chance  for  two  or  three 
skulking  forms  to  gain  the  rear. 

"  To  the  canoe !     Back  for  your  lives ! "  he  shouted, 
and  simultaneously   rushed  for  the  shore.     Dick  and 


EUREKA!  THE  ELDORADO!  279 

Ande  were  either  too  confused  by  the  yells  around  them 
or  hard  pressed  in  the  conflict  to  give  heed.  Not  so  the 
crafty  pilot.  With  instinct  he  seemed  to  understand  the 
import  of  the  retreat,  and  rushed  headlong  into  the  water 
after  the  canoe.  The  rope  by  which  it  was  attached 
had  stretched  itself  to  its  full  length  and  the  canoe  had 
edged  out  by  the  force  of  the  rising  current.  He  had 
almost  reached  it  when  a  shot  rang  out  from  the  shore, 
and  the  pilot,  flinging  up  his  arms,  plunged  into  the 
muddy  tide.  Hunter  Tom  who  was  next  to  him,  tried 
ineff^ectually  to  grasp  his  falling  form,  but  the  next 
moment  the  swirling  waters  bore  him  away.  There  was 
no  time  for  regret.  The  canoe  was  hauled  in  and  Tom 
in  its  bow,  with  knife  ready  to  sever  the  rope,  looked 
shoreward  for  his  friends. 

Ah !  What  a  scene  I  A  sight  that,  though  it  filled  the 
old  hunter  with  alarm,  yet  thrilled  him  with  admiration. 
Ande,  apparently  deeply  wounded,  was  on  the  ground 
and  Dick — did  he  ever  appear  so  heroic.''  Standing 
head  and  shoulders  above  the  tall  savages,  he  seemed 
like  a  pine  surrounded  by  scrub  oaks.  Nor  was  the  giant 
Cornishman  idle  for,  like  a  child's  toy,  the  heavy  rifle 
whirled  and  whistled  around  his  head  and  shoulders. 
Death  lurked  in  its  sweeping  circle.  Nor  was  strategy 
of  any  avail.  One  sought  to  run  in  under  his  guard,  while 
another  was  receiving  the  attack,  but  the  attacking 
party  went  down  under  a  terrific  swing,  while  the  stoop- 
ing, swiftly  moving  strategist  received,  the  next  moment, 
a  jolt  from  the  end  of  the  gun  barrel  that  was  as  dis- 
astrous as  the  blow  of  the  butt.     Four  had  already 


280  ANDE     TREMBATH 

fallen  under  those  sweeping  blows.  Old  Tom  paused 
not  for  an  instant.  While  some  occupied  Dick's  atten- 
tion in  front,  one  or  two  were  edging  toward  the  rear, 
and  should  they  accomplish  their  purpose  the  end  was 
certain.  With  a  cry  of  "  Have  at  them,"  the  hunter 
leaped  from  the  canoe,  beat  off  the  skulking  forms  in 
the  rear,  and  then  reaching  down  he  grasped  the 
unconscious  Ande,  like  a  father  would  a  child,  and  hur- 
riedly placed  him  in  the  canoe. 

"  Back,  Dick,  lad ! "  he  shouted  as  he  pushed  out  a 
little  from  the  shore. 

Dick  heard  the  call,  and  with  another  sweep  of  his 
weapon  cleared  a  broader  circle,  but  the  rifle  unused  to 
the  unnatural  strain,  broke  at  the  lock.  Flinging  the 
shattered  piece  in  the  face  of  an  advancing  enemy  he 
leaped  to  the  shore.  Two  Shawnese,  one  a  powerful 
built  fellow,  strove  to  intercept  him,  but  there  were  other 
defences. 

Crack !  A  shot  rang  out  from  the  canoe.  It  was  the 
trapper's  gun  that  spoke,  and  one  fell  under  that  unerr- 
ing aim.  Crash!  went  Dick's  great  fist  on  the  counte- 
nance of  the  other,  and  the  dazed  Shawnese  sat  down  in 
a  heap.  Hunter  Tom  could  have  laughed  then  and  there 
at  the  repulse  of  the  latter,  but  there  was  not  much  time 
for  sentiments  of  any  kind.  Dick  had  leaped  into  the 
stream  after  the  canoe  and  was  pushing  toward  it 
through  the  swift  current.  There  were  a  few  yells  of 
disappointment  on  shore,  and  then  a  perfect  fusillade 
of  bullets  hissed  spitefully  on  the  waters  and  crashed 
through  the  underbrush  on  the  farther  shore  and  then — 


EUREKA!  THE  ELDORADO!  281 

like  the  falling  of  a  forest  giant  that  had  felt  the  biting 
steel  in  its  vitals,  Dick  fell.  He  struggled  for  a  moment 
to  reach  the  hunter's  outstretched  hand  and  then  sank, 
and  the  swift  current,  now  a  roaring  turbulent,  gyrating 
mass,  swelled  to  foaming  madness  by  the  rain  at  the 
headwaters,  whirled  his  great  body  under  the  bellying 
bow  of  the  canoe — and  he  was  gone  from  sight. 

With  a  quick  sweep  of  the  knife  Hunter  Tom  cut  the 
rope,  and  the  canoe,  freed,  bounded  away  on  the  surface 
of  the  flood  like  a  thing  of  life.  Carefully  pillowing 
Ande's  head  on  his  rolled  up  wamus  in  the  rear,  he  lay 
down  in  the  bow  and  with  one  hand  over  the  gunwale, 
holding  the  paddle,  he  sought  to  guide  the  swiftly  float- 
ing craft,  while  with  his  head  slightly  raised  he  kept  a 
keen  lookout  for  the  bodies  of  Dick  and  the  pilot.  The 
Shawnese  kept  up  a  running  fire  on  shore  for  the  dis- 
tance of  a  half  a  mile,  when  the  fire  slackened,  and 
evidently  the  swiftness  of  the  current  and  the  gloom 
cast  by  the  heavy  foliage  overhead  had  caused  pursuit 
to  be  abandoned.  The  Still  Water  was  reached  and  the 
aged  hunter  perceived  with  grim  satisfaction  that  his 
prediction  had  come  true.  What  was  some  hours  before 
a  still,  softly  flowing  body  was  now  a  rollicking,  turbu- 
lent mass  that  glowed  with  a  yellow,  dunnish  hue  in  the 
moonlight.  Onwards  bounded  the  canoe,  the  hunter 
guiding  it  with  unerring  hand,  now  avoiding  a  towering 
rock,  now  bending  with  the  full  power  of  his  muscles  to 
guide  the  craft  around  a  sharp  bend  in  the  stream.  Fear 
of  pursuit  having  long  been  left  behind,  he  had  arose  to 
a  sitting  posture,  and  was  lending  to  the  onward  force 


ANDE  TREMBATH 

of  the  current  the  might  of  his  own  arms.  No  vessel 
ever  scudded  before  a  gale  faster  than  the  canoe  on  that 
eventful  night.  Once  the  sole,  lone  canoeist  thought  he 
saw  the  body  of  Dick  floating  before  him  on  the  surface 
of  the  tide  and  he  redoubled  his  efforts  to  overtake  him. 
The  object  was  reached,  but  proved  but  a  piece  of  drift- 
wood, darkly  dappling  the  yellow  flood.  With  the  first 
feeling  of  relief  that  he  had  experienced  that  night  he 
saw  the  winding  course  of  the  Loop  before  him.  Once 
more  the  paddle  was  brought  into  vigorous  requisition, 
and  then  with  a  sigh  of  relief  he  turned  the  prow  toward 
shore  and  the  keel  grated  on  the  shelving  beach.  Ten- 
derly he  lifted  Ande  from  the  stern  and  laid  him  on  the 
sward,  then  turning  to  the  canoe  he  lifted  it  bodily  from 
the  water  and,  taking  it  a  few  yards  inland,  hid  it 
securely  in  the  underbrush.  Then  returning  to  his 
unconscious  companion  he  carried  him  to  his  cabin  home. 
Knowing  that  he  dared  not  leave  his  wounded  friend, 
and  yet  wishing  to  arouse  the  citizens  of  Burgtown,  he 
went  without,  unhobbled  the  horses,  and  with  a  smart 
blow  sent  each  galloping  home  to  town.  This  done  he 
returned  to  the  cabin,  barricaded  the  house,  both  window 
and  door,  loaded  his  rifle,  and  feeling  secure,  turned  to 
resuscitate  the  wounded  man.  With  a  woodsman's  skill 
he  laboured  through  the  long  hours  of  the  night  until  the 
dawn  appeared,  examining,  with  muttered  commenta- 
tions. 

"  Ah,  a  wound  in  the  arm.  It  could  not  have  been 
the  last.  A  brave  young  man  and  fought  like  an  old 
Indian  fighter.     Aye,  another  wound  in  the  leg ;  His  only 


EUREKA!  THE  ELDORADO!  283 

a  flesh  wound  and  will  heal  soon  or  old  Tom  doesn't  know 
his  art.  And  here's  a  slash  of  a  knife  in  the  breast. 
Ah!  'twas  a  cruel  stroke,  that.  But  none  of  them  are 
strong  enough  to  lay  such  a  man  out.  He  has  the 
strength  of  a  young  lion  and  Tom  will  bring  him 
through.  But  what's  this.?  "  In  handling  the  uncon- 
scious man's  head  the  hair  had  fallen  aside  and  revealed 
the  stroke  of  a  tomahawk  or  knife.  "  Zounds !  A 
ghastly  wound  that.  It  must  have  stunned  him."  With 
water  taken  from  an  earthen  basin  in  the  corner  of  the 
cabin  he  bathed  the  wounds,  poured  in  some  healing 
lotion  and  bound  them  up  with  a  rude  skill.  Then,  hav- 
ing poured  a  little  brandy  down  his  throat,  he  began  to 
chafe  his  hands  and  wrists  until,  with  the  glimmering 
light  of  dawn,  the  light  of  consciousness  returned. 

"Where  am  I.?" 

*'  Safe  here  in  my  cabin,  lad." 

"  And  Dick  and  the  pilot.?  " 

"  They  are  gone,  my  lad,  the  Lord  knows  where," 
answered  the  old  hunter,  and  with  his  eyes  glistening 
with  tears  he  related  the  closing  scenes  of  the  fight,  and 
how  Dick  and  the  pilot  were  shot  and  swallowed  up  in 
the  flood. 

"  Poor  Dick — I  have  lost  in  him  the  pearl,  and  my 
dream  is  fulfilled." 

He  sank  back  in  weariness  and  closed  his  eyes. 
Suddenly  the  wounded  man  started  to  a  sitting  position 
and  whispered  with  excited  face: 

"  The  Shawnese.  Don't  you  hear  them,  Tom,  Hunter 
Tom?    They  are  stealing  through  the  woods  and  around 


284  ANDE     TREMBATH 

the  house.  I  hear  them.  Give  me  a  gun,  and  we'll 
defend  the  cabin." 

The  effort  was  too  much,  and  he  sank  back  again  on 
the  couch  of  deerskins  in  a  semi-conscious  condition. 

Tom,  too,  had  heard  something,  but  it  was  not  the 
tread  of  Indians.  The  next  moment  there  was  a  shout 
without  and  the  clatter  of  approaching  horses'  feet. 
'Twas  the  settlers. 


CHAPTER  XXVI 


THE    RISING 


"All  parts  resound  with  tumults,  plaints  and  fears; 
And  grisly  death  in  sundry  shapes  appears." 

— Dryden, 

There  was  great  excitement  in  Burgtown.  The  old 
tavern  keeper  had  found  three  horses  without  his  door, 
standing  there  jaded,  tired,  in  the  early  dawn.  He 
recognised  them  as  the  animals  of  the  pilot  and  the 
two  prospectors.  Around  the  tavern's  long  porch  were 
assembled  Professor  Bill  Banks,  the  town  citizens,  and 
several  outside  squatters,  a  motley  assemblage,  listen- 
ing to  old  Burke's  recital.  The  tavern  keeper  was  filled 
with  importance,  for  once  he  was  the  centre  of  attrac- 
tion and  seemed  like  a  Fourth  of  July  orator,  so  breath- 
less did  all  seem  to  hang  upon  his  words.  His  round 
body  was  swelled  to  greater  proportions  as  he  proceeded, 
in  a  roundabout  way,  to  narrate  what  he  knew  of  the 
affair. 

"  It  war  this  way.  The  pilot,  Hugh  Lark,  he  kem 
a-riding  up  about  dark  last  night  and  asked  fer  the 
strangers,  whether  they  was  to  home  in  the  tavern. 
He  seemed  powerful  anxious  to  have  them  right  away. 
*  Going  rafting,  Hugh?  '  sez  I,  social-like.  *  No,'  sez 
he;  '  air  Mr.  Ande  and  Mr.  Dick  in?  '  *  Been  rafting?  * 
sez  I.     Then  he  fired  up,  mad-like,  and  talked  about 

285 


286  ANDE     TREMBATH 

the  grey  mare  of  hisn  being  able  to  pull  a  oar  as  good 
as  any  raftsman.  I  had  my  doubts  of  that,  though 
the  mare  has  a  heap  of  sense.  But  I  thought  he  war 
joking,  and  I  guess  he  war.  About  that  time  I  up  and 
asked  whether  he  war  a-going  a-hunting  for  the  mine. 
You  see  the  strangers  air  pros — whatever  it  is — I  mean 
they  war  miners,  and  we  uns  had  the  idee  that  they  were 
a-searching  for  something  of  that  kind.  He  up  and 
sez,  short-like,  that  he  wam't  and  that  they  war  just 
going  hunting.  'Bout  this  time  Mr.  Ande  and  Mr. 
Dick  come  out,  and  their  bosses  were  brought  around, 
and  they  jumped  on,  and  then  I  thought  I  would  ask 
Mr.  Ande,  being  as  he  war  allers  social-like.  *  Air  ye 
going  to  find  that  mine,  Mr.  Ande  ?  '  sez  I.  Then  he 
up,  and  in  high  larndt  langwidge,  told  we  uns  about 
their  going  after  some  kind  of  fishes,  but  I  ne'er  hearn 
tell  of  a  man  going  fishin'  without  hooks  and  with  a 
gun  and " 

"  Come,  cut  it  short,"  said  Professor  Bill,  impa- 
tiently.    "  At  what  hour  did  they  go  ?  " 

"  'Bout  seven  o'clock  last  night,  and " 

"  And  when  did  the  horses  return  ?  " 

«  Well,  if  I  do  hev  to  say  it " 

"  Come,"  said  Bill,  with  the  authority  of  a  leader, 
"  when  did  they  return?  " 

"  Well — I  kalkilate  'bout  five  o'clock  in  the  morn- 
ing, leastways  they  were  here  when  we  uns  got  up." 

"  And  which  way  did  they  go  ?  " 

"  Well,  ye  see,  Mr.  Ande,  who  is  a  great  scholard 
and  high  larndt,  he " 


THE     RISING  287 

"  Egregious  dolt !  Vociferous  driveller ! "  ex- 
claimed Bill,  in  exasperation,  "  can't  you  say  which  way 
they  went." 

"  Gosh,  what  langwidge ! "  murmured  the  tavern 
keeper  in  excessive  admiration  of  Bill's  explosion,  but 
seeing  that  Bill  was  getting  angry  he  answered 
quickly :  "  As  I  live.  Bill,  I  think  they  went  down  creek 
to  old  Hunter  Tom's,  seein'  as  Hugh  war  fond  of  Tom. 
Leastways  they  went  that  way  and " 

Old  Burke's  words  were  drowned  in  the  commands 
of  Bill. 

"  Every  man  get  his  horse  and  gun  and  we'll  start  in 
five  minutes.  Others  can  follow.  We  go  to  Hunter 
Tom's  place.  Perhaps  some  accident  has  happened. 
Fetch  me  some  brandy,  Burke;  if  they  are  hurt  they 
may  need  it." 

Rapidly  the  men  collected,  and  under  the  able  gen- 
eralship of  Professor  Bill  Banks  forth  they  sallied. 
The  tavern  keeper  watched  them  gallop  down  the  town 
road  and  thunder  over  the  lower  bridge,  and  when  they 
had  disappeared  among  the  trees  of  the  farther  shore 
he  entered  the  tavern. 

"  Wot  a  scholard  Bill  is,"  he  murmured  as  he  en- 
deavoured to  write  down  his  learned  words.  "  Egg — 
egg — "  he  murmured,  and  then  he  slowly  allowed  his 
tongue  to  follow  the  twisting,  uncertain  movements  of* 
his  quill  pen.  "  It's  no  use,"  he  said,  as  he  flung  down 
the  quill ;  "  Bill  will  hev  to  write  her  down  f  er  me.  Wot 
a  scholard !    He'll  be  a  Congressman  yit." 

Bill  and  his  men  in  a  short  time  reached  the  hunter's 


288  ANDE     TREMBATH 

cabin  in  the  Loop.  Tom,  hearing  the  shout  of  famihar 
voices,  flung  open  the  door,  and  in  a  few,  brief  words 
narrated  the  adventures  of  the  night.  They  had  been 
up  the  creek,  he  said,  and  had  been  attacked  by  Shaw- 
nese.  About  the  object  of  their  night  expedition  he 
was  silent. 

The  news  of  the  presence  of  Indians  in  the  neigh- 
bourhood was  new  to  all  but  two  of  the  party,  who 
had  seen  them  as  the  pilot  had  seen  them  on  the 
former  day.  Bill,  with  the  skill  of  a  general,  divided 
his  forces.  Two  he  told  to  remain  with  Ande  in  the 
cabin;  some  were  sent  down  the  river  in  search  of  the 
pilot  and  Dick ;  the  remainder  and  greater  number,  with 
the  hunter  in  their  midst,  were  to  take  the  trail  up 
stream  to  avenge  themselves  on  the  remaining  Shaw- 
nese.  According  to  the  hunter's  account  but  half  a 
dozen  at  the  most  remained.  Tom  was  in  little  hopes 
of  finding  them,  as  by  this  time  they  had  made  good 
their  escape;  but  Professor  Bill  was  inflexible,  and 
forth  up  the  creek  trail  they  started.  Part  of  the  ex- 
pedition went  in  Tom's  canoe  and  the  rest,  leaving  their 
horses  in  Tom's  clearing,  started  forth  on  foot.  The 
place  of  the  battle  was  reached  after  an  hour  or  so,  but 
little  was  to  be  learned.  At  the  landing,  with  the  ex- 
ception of  trampled  ground  and  a  few  pools  of  blood, 
nothing  could  be  seen.  The  bodies  of  the  slain  Shaw- 
nese  were  either  buried  or  consigned  to  the  flood.  The 
neighbourhood  was  thoroughly  searched,  the  woods  and 
hills  beaten  by  the  scattering  settlers,  but  Shawnese, 
living  and  dead,  and  even  Dick's  broken  rifle,  had  dis- 


THERISING  289 

appeared.  Expecting  the  rising  of  the  settlers  they  had 
decamped  in  haste.  Disappointed  in  their  quest  they 
returned  to  the  Loop. 

There  they  waited  the  return  of  the  party  down 
stream  while  they  listened  to  Hunter  Tom's  cursory 
narrative  of  the  battle  and  the  chief  events.  He  told 
how  they  were  surprised,  but  not  for  what  purpose 
they  had  journeyed  to  that  locaHty;  how  the  pilot 
fought  and  slew  a  couple  of  the  foe  and  afterward, 
rushing  into  the  flood  to  reach  the  canoe,  was  shot  down 
by  an  Indian  bullet ;  how  Dick,  "  the  giant,"  as  he  was 
sometimes  called  by  the  settlers,  towered  a  head  and 
shoulders  o'er  the  enemy. 

"  I'll  wager  he  knocked  them  down  like  nine-pins," 
said  Professor  Bill  Banks. 

"  Aye,"  said  the  hunter,  "  he  did  that ;  he  handled 
his  rifle  like  a  farmer's  flail,  and  every  time  he  struck  he 
threshed  their  top-knots  out.  Then,  when  I  caught  up 
the  lad  in  yonder  and  took  him  back  to  the  canoe,  he 
cleared  a  wider  circle  for  himself  and  leaped  like  a 
kangaroo  toward  shore." 

"  And  they  didn't  dare  stop  him?  "  asked  one. 

"  Not  they  ?  They  couldn't.  Aye,  there  were  two 
fellows,  one  a  stout  one,  good-sized,  that  did  hedge  in 

to  cut  him  off^,  but  one  was  shot  down  and  the  other " 

The  old  man  allowed  his  weather-beaten  face  to  relax 
into  a  grim  smile  of  humour  as  the  scene  arose  before 
him  in  mind. 

"  And  the  other?  " 

"  Well,  the  other  come  too  nigh  to  Mr,  Dick's  big  fist. 


290  ANDE     TREMBATH 

and  he  went  down  in  a  heap  with  the  most  astonishing 
look  on  his  countenance  that  I  ever  saw  on  the  face  of 
any  one.  It  makes  me  smile  now  when  I  think  of  it. 
Then  Mr.  Dick  came  leaping  and  pushing  through  the 
water.  I  had  pushed  out  a  little  from  shore  and  had 
my  knife  ready  to  cut  the  rope  as  soon  as  he  could 
reach  the  canoe,  when  a  hailstorm  of  bullets  skipped 
across  the  water  and  Dick  plunged  under  and  I  saw 
him  no  more.    The  rest  of  the  tale  you  know." 

The  narrative  was  finished,  but  it  was  noticed  by 
several  that  the  old  hunter  spoke  very  little  of  his  own 
achievements  in  that  battle.  And  yet  they  knew  that 
he  had  not  been  idle. 

"  And  did  Mr.  Ande  do  much  fighting.?  "  asked  Pro- 
fessor Bill. 

**  Fighting.?  Aye,  he  fought  like  an  old  Indian 
fighter.  In  all  my  experience  with  Indians,  I  have 
come  across  none  who  put  up  a  braver  battle  than  the 
young  lion  cub  in  yonder;  aye,  and  fighting  wounded 
at  that,  for  he  carries  a  wound  in  the  chest  that  would 
have  killed  an  ordinary  man,  and  a  wound  in  the  leg, 
and  another  in  the  arm  that  would  have  made  many  a 
stout  heart  give  in,  but  he  fought  on  until  he  received 
that  blow  on  the  head  that  rendered  him  unconscious. 
Brave — very  brave." 

"  And  how  about  yourself,  Tom  ?  "  asked  one  of  the 
settlers. 

"  Oh,  I  killed  a  few,"  said  the  old  hunter,  simply. 

There  was  a  shout  from  down  the  creek  trail,  and  the 
sound  of  horses'  hoofs,  and  proceeding  as  rapidly  as 


THE     RISING  291 

possible  over  the  uncertain  trail  the  band  from  down 
stream  entered  the  clearing. 

"  What  news?  "  asked  Professor  Bill,  rising  from  his 
recumbent  position. 

"  We  found  the  pilot  and  he's  living,  but  pretty 
badly  hurt.  He  was  pulled  on  a  raft  by  the  Pegleg 
pilot,  and  they  put  him  off  at  a  tavern  further  down 
stream." 

A  cheer  went  up  from  all  the  assembled  settlers,  and 
the  wildwood  rang  with  their  voices  again  and  again, 
and  then  when  silence  had  come  there  were  various 
comments. 

"  I  thought  the  pilot  was  too  tough  to  be  put  out  by 
a  single  bullet,"  said  one. 

*'  I  knew  that  ye  couldn't  drown  an  old  water  dog 
like  him,"  said  another. 

"  Did  they  get  a  doctor,"  said  Professor  Bill. 

*'  Yaas,"  drawled  one  of  the  returned  expedition, 
*'  they  got  a  doctor  and  he  fixed  him  up,  but  he  can't 
be  moved  yet  for  some  time,  but  he'll  pull  through,  he 
said.  We  didn't  have  much  time  fer  to  talk  with  Hugh, 
for  we  uns  wanted  to  see  about  the  tother  fellow  and 
the  Shawnese.  We  went  all  the  way  to  the  mouth  of 
the  creek,  and  there  we  learned  thet  five  Indians  were 
seen  crossing  the  river  in  a  canoe  some  hours  before. 
Now,  I  remembers  it,  some  of  the  fellows  at  the  mouth 
said  they  seemed  in  a  powerful  hurry,  and  passed  over 
the  river  in  the  early  dawn,  and  were  making  their  way 
toward  Michigan." 

"And  Mr.  Dick.?"  asked  the  Professor. 


292  ANDE    TREMBATH 

"  Nawthing  was  seen  of  him  at  all.  He  must  be 
drowned  by  this  time." 

There  was  a  little  conference  between  Professor  Bill 
and  the  hunter  about  moving  Ande  to  Burgtown,  but 
the  old  man  strenuously  opposed  it,  and  Bill  acquiesced 
in  his  plan  of  leaving  him  at  the  Loop  until  he  should 
recover.  The  setting  sun  saw  all  of  the  expedition 
trotting  homeward  to  Burgtown,  where  the  events  of 
the  day  were  gone  over  again  and  again  for  the  benefit 
of  Peter  Burke,  tavern  keeper.  In  the  mind  of  that 
worthy  they  were  tabulated  and  placed  on  the  same 
shelf  in  his  memory  as  the  records  of  Reverend  Burg. 


CHAPTER    XXVII 

THE    SECRET    OF    THE    SNUFF-BOX 

IT  was  in  the  late  fall  and  the  forests  and  wildwood 
had  adorned  themselves  with  their  autumnal  dress.  Hills, 
mountains  and  ravines  were  gorgeous  with  mantles  of 
scarlet,  of  brown,  and  of  gold,  while  amidst  it  all 
several  hardy  ranges  of  pine  seemed  to  resist  the 
onward  sweep  of  the  frost,  and  triumphant  in  their 
vernal-hued  robes,  seemed  to  fling  their  plumy  tops  this 
way  and  that  in  contempt  of  their  conquered  brethren 
who  wore  the  livery  of  the  frost  tyrant.  Here  and  there 
several  forest  giants,  weaker  than  their  brethren,  were 
completely  denuded  of  their  garments  and  stood  mourn- 
fully shivering,  trembling,  sighing,  in  the  faint  after- 
noon breezes.  The  rocks  and  boulders  of  the  Loop, 
once  covered  with  green  creepers,  now  were  bare  and 
desolate,  except  where  a  creeper,  its  leaves  smitten  to 
blood  red  hue,  sought  to  lend  its  warmth  to  its  cold, 
rocky,  affianced  one.  The  cabin  of  Hunter  Tom  seemed 
to  stand  out  more  clearly  in  relief  against  the  general 
background  of  leaves  and  hills.  The  door  was  ajar 
and  the  window  partly  open,  but  it  had  no  occupant. 
In  a  little  glade  near  the  cabin,  and  on  a  pile  of  bear  and 
deerskins,  was  the  form  of  Ande  Trembath,  apparently 

293 


294  ANDE     TREMBATH 

in  a  gentle  slumber.  Near  him,  seated  on  a  rude,  wooden 
bench,  wedged  in  between  the  bases  of  two  chestnuts, 
were  the  forms  of  Hunter  Tom  and  the  pilot,  Hugh 
Lark.  Hugh  had  recovered  from  the  severe  injuries 
of  the  Shawnese  battle  and  had  returned  to  his  home 
and  his  pursuit  of  rafting.  The  old  hunter,  his  hoary 
hair  falling  like  a  veil  o'er  his  ears  and  shoulders,  was 
engaged  in  cleaning  "  Brown  Bess,"  as  he  called  his 
trusty  rifle,  but  he  was  not  so  intent  upon  this  as  he  was 
in  listening  to  the  conversation  of  the  pilot.  It  was 
their  first  meeting  after  the  notable  events  of  the  pre- 
vious spring,  and  Hugh  was  relating  his  experience. 

"  I  don't  remember  much  of  the  things  that  happened 
after  the  first  few  moments  that  I  was  shot.  I  was 
intent  on  bringing  the  canoe  closer  to  land,  and  was 
just  reaching  out  for  it  when  I  heard  a  shot  and  then 
felt  a  sting  alongside  of  the  head,  and  then  I  remem- 
ber falling  and  hearing  the  waters  buzzing  around  my 
ears  like  ten  thousand  bees.  Then  I  kenned  naething 
for,  it  seemed  to  me,  quite  a  time.  Then  there  was  a 
time  of  dim  consciousness,  and  I  knew  I  was  floating 
on  at  a  pretty  good  speed,  but  it  seemed  I  didn't  care 
where  I  went,  until  at  last  I  came  to  my  full  senses  by 
a  heavy  blow  that  I  got  on  the  arm.  I  had  been  dashed 
by  the  flood  against  one  of  the  rocks  below  the  Still 
Water.  Then  I  realised  where  I  was,  and  tried  to  make 
for  land,  but  the  strength  of  the  flood,  or  my  own  weak- 
ness, made  all  my  eff'orts  useless.  I  swept  past  the  cabin 
there  and  soon  approached  the  place  where  the  Little 
Lycamahoning  empties  into  the  Big,  and  there  I  made  a 


SECRET     OF     THE     SNUFF-BOX    295 

strong  effort  to  get  ashore,  and  did  succeed  in  getting 
away  from  the  violence  of  the  current,  but  in  the  mean- 
time I  was  swept  onward  past  Pilot  Rock  and  I  began 
to  hear  the  roar  of  the  rapids  of  the  Rough  Water.  I 
knew  I  could  never  get  through  that  stretch  of  water 
alive,  and  had  given  myself  up  for  lost,  when  old  Peg- 
leg  with  his  raft  hove  in  sight.  There  ne'er  was  a  more 
welcome  sight.  I  shouted  to  them  and  they  heard  me, 
and,  as  I  swept  by,  they  flung  me  a  rope  that  I  man- 
aged to  grasp,  and  they  hauled  me  on  board.  I  was  so 
done  out  that  I  couldn't  speak  until  they  put  me  off  at 
the  tavern,  some  miles  down." 

"  It  was  a  marvellous  escape,  and  ye  ought  to  thank 
God  for  it,"  said  the  hunter. 

**  Aye,  I  have  many  a  time." 

**  I'm  afraid  we  have  seen  the  last  of  Mr.  Dick." 

"  If  he  wasn't  killed  outright  he  must  have  been  bat- 
tered to  pieces  in  the  Rough  Water,  for  I  don't  think 
there  is  a  man  living  that  could  go  through  the  Rough 
Water  without  some  support.  I  have  taken  a  stick  of 
timber  through,  but  riding  a  stick  of  timber  and  going 
through  with  nothing  but  your  own  arms  is  a  diff'erent 
case.  I  have  seen  sticks  of  timber  that  have  drifted 
through  and  been  gathered  in  at  the  mouth  of  the  creek, 
and  the  way  they  have  been  gouged  and  splintered  in 
contact  with  the  rocks  was  a  caution.  No  man  could 
be  beaten  around  that  way  and  live." 

There  was  a  pause  of  some  length,  during  which 
Hunter  Tom  forgot  his  cleansing  of  the  rifle,  and  there 
was  a  moisture  in  his  eye,  a  faint  indication  of  the  sad- 


296  ANDE     TREMBATH 

ness  that  he  had  within  him,  and  all  the  while  the  mellow 
autumnal  sunshine  poured  down  and  around  them 
through  the  crimson  foliage  overhead,  and  the  birds  of 
the  neighbouring  woods  seemed  to  sing  merrily  as  if 
jesting,  laughing,  at  the  solemn  import  of  the  pilot's 
words.    It  was  the  pilot  who  broke  the  silence 

"  Is  Mr.  Ande  nigh  well.?  "  with  a  nod  at  the  slumber- 
ing form  on  the  bearskins. 

"  Still  weak,  although  his  wounds  have  healed.  I  be- 
lieve he  came  off  the  worst  of  any  of  us  in  the  battle. 
But  he's  getting  stronger.  He  was  much  worried  about 
Mr.  Dick  and  the  maps  being  lost." 

"Maps  lost.?" 

"  Aye.  He  said  that  both  maps  were  placed  in  the 
bottom  of  the  canoe  before  we  landed.  They  may  have 
been  dropped  out  when  I  hauled  the  canoe  ashore  and 
hid  it  among  the  underbrush  when  I  returned.  The 
doctor  thinks,  though,  he  will  be  able  to  be  moved  soon, 
and  then  we  shall  have  a  search  for  them."  Tom  men- 
tioned the  doctor  with  a  tinge  of  sarcasm  as  if  in  con- 
tempt of  doctors  and  their  medicine.  "  The  lad  was 
getting  on  well  enough  under  my  care,  but  Professor 
BiU  insisted  on  calling  in  the  doctor,  and  so  I  handed 
over  the  case  to  him,  though  the  lad  would  have  done 
just  as  well,  if  not  better,  under  my  own  care." 

"  Do  ye  think  ye  can  find  the  mine  again  ?  " 

"  Aye,  perhaps,  and  yet  'twill  be  a  hard  thing.  I 
looked  o'er  the  ground  when  the  searching  party  was 
with  me.  The  oak  and  the  stream  can  be  found  easy 
enough,  but  the  place  of  excavation  I  looked  for  in  vain. 


SECRET     OF     THE     SNUFF-BOX    297 

The  whole  hill  is  covered  with  loose  stones  and  debris 
and  should  we  find  it,  I  doubt  whether  it  will  prove 
much  more  than  a  small  vein  of  sulphide  of  lead.  I 
might  possibly  find  it  again,  for  my  memory  is  good, 
but  I  have  sickened  of  the  whole  affair.  What  use  is  it 
to  me?  '*  There  was  a  tinge  of  bitterness  in  the  old 
man's  tones. 

"  Ye  were  interested  in  it,  though,  years  ago,  for  ye 
told  us  so." 

"  Aye,  that  was  when  I  was  younger  than  I  am  now.. 
But  my  friends  and  family  are  all  dead,  and  I  am  an 
old  man.  The  rifle  gives  me  all  that  I  need ;  the  spring 
that  gushes  forth  from  under  the  big  rock  gives  all  my 
drink;  I  am  content  to  be  as  I  am  until  God  calls  me 
hence;  and  then  I  shall  go  where  there  is  no  injustice 
and  where  traitorous  friends  shall  be  rewarded  accord- 
ing to  their  due  and  all  wrong  righted;  I  am  con- 
tent." 

The  old  man  had  finished  cleaning  his  rifle ;  he  entered 
the  cabin  and  returned  with  a  battered  violin.  Placing 
it  tenderly  'neath  his  chin,  he  proceeded  gently  to  draw 
the  old  bow  across  the  strings,  gently  as  if  he  was 
loathe  to  awaken  the  slumbering  form  on  the  bearskins 
near  at  hand.  But  the  first,  faint  tones,  quivering  and 
like  a  child's  cry,  awakened  the  sleeper.  He  turned 
his  eyes  to  Hugh  and  smiled  a  welcome  and  then  ex- 
tended his  hand. 

"  Ah,  Hugh,  old  fellow,  glad  to  see  you  back  and 
well.  I  heard  that  you  had  returned,"  shaking  Hugh's 
hand  as  he  knelt  down  beside  him,  "  and  wondered  why 


298  ANDE     TREMBATH 

you  didn't  come  over  and  see  your  fellow  soldier.  Poor 
Dick  is  gone,  though,  and  the  maps  are  lost." 

"  And  Hunter  Tom  says  it's  useless  to  try  and  find 
the  mine,"  said  Hugh,  regretfully. 

"  It  may  be  useless,  but  we  can  try.  You  know  that 
it's  not  for  the  silver  alone  that  I'm  looking,  Hugh." 

"  Aye,  I  ken  well  enou'  that." 

"  Tom,  could  you  play  us  something.  You  didn't 
know,  Hugh,  that  Hunter  Tom  is  a  player.  He  can 
make  the  violin  talk,  and  he  has  often  made  me  cheerful 
when  I  felt  sad." 

Hunter  Tom  readjusted  the  violin,  and  forth  upon 
the  afternoon  air,  silencing  the  birds  for  a  time  and 
rivalling  them  in  sweetness,  pealed  the  tones  of  the  old 
violin.  It  was  a  martial  strain  at  first  that  seemed  to 
swell  and  soar  like  some  triumphant  march  of  some  hero 
returning  from  the  wars.  The  stream  back  of  the  cabin 
seemed  to  roar  in  harmony  with  the  melody,  like  the 
thrilling  chords  of  some  giant  bass  viol.  The  blood 
mounted  to  Ande's  cheeks  as  he  listened,  and  his  eyes 
brightened.  The  pilot  gazed  at  the  figure  of  the  old 
hunter  with  awe  and  reverence.  If  the  melody  was 
warlike  and  stirring  the  figure  of  the  old  man  was 
more  so ;  yes,  it  was  imposing,  like  some  old  Viking,  who 
had  dared  the  deep  and  conquered  it ;  the  hunter's  figure 
straightened,  his  eye  flashed,  and  his  hoary  locks  and 
beard,  stirred  by  the  breeze,  appeared  to  roll  away 
from  his  head  and  features  like  the  dashing  waters  of 
some  cataract  from  its  rocky  crest.  On  and  on  went 
the  melody,   soaring   and   wildly   triumphant  with  its 


SECRET     OF     THE     SNUFF-BOX    299 

strong  major  chords.  Then,  almost  imperceptibly, 
there  was  the  change  to  the  minor  key,  and  then  a  num- 
ber of  changes  from  one  to  the  other,  and  the  effect  was 
like  hearing  the  distant  murmur  of  crashing  pieces  of 
artillery.  At  times  there  would  be  a  wild  shriek  from 
the  upper  chords  and  then  the  same  repetition  of  boom- 
ing artillery  fire.  The  old  man  seemed  to  be  giving  a 
musical  history  of  one  of  his  own  battles.  Then,  all  of 
a  sudden,  all  was  in  the  minor  key,  soft  and  sorrowful. 
There  was  a  wailing  hopelessness  in  the  tones.  The  old 
man's  form  ceased  to  tower  at  his  full  height,  his  head 
sank  lower  and  more  lovingly  upon  the  violin,  and  the 
strains  were  like  the  requiem  of  a  lost  soul.  The  pallor 
returned  to  Ande's  cheeks  and  Hugh  bowed  his  head 
in  his  hands.  The  leaves  o'erhead  rustled  in  whispering 
sympathy,  and  here  and  there  one  would  fall — a  crimson 
tear  from  the  eye  of  a  giant. 

The  melody  ceased. 

*'  Tom,  I  didn't  ken  that  ye  could  play  like  that.  It 
made  me  feel  that  I  was  fighting  the  Shawnese  again, 
and  that  I  was  knocking  them  right  and  left,  and  then 
it  seemed  to  me  that  I  was  in  the  Rough  Waters,  hearing 
the  noise  of  the  rapids,  and  guiding  a  raft  around  the 
rocks,  and  then  it  seemed  to  me  as  if  the  raft  was 
a-dashed  to  pieces  and  I  was  flung  solitary  and  alone  on 
the  shore  without  a  friend  and  without  a  baubee  in  my 
pocket  to  buy  a  night's  lodging.  It  near  made  me 
greet.     Hunter  Tom,  ye  are  a  wonderful  man.'* 

There  were  tears  in  the  pilot's  eyes. 

"  I  tell  you.  Hunter  Tom,  you  should  be  on  the  stage. 


300  ANDE     TREMBATH 

Play  like  that  before  an  audience  in  New  Orleans,  Nevr 
York,  or  London  and  your  fortune  is  made.  Whose 
melody  was  it?  "  said  Ande. 

"  The  melody  is  my  own.  Ne'er  a  note  of  it  was  e'er 
on  paper;  I  composed  it  here  in  the  wilderness  and  it's 
a  history  of  my  own  life  and  my  family.  The  end  of 
the  piece  represents  me  now,  a  solitary  dweller  in  the 
wilderness,  an  exile  from  home,  with  no  friends  but  the 
great  God  above."  The  old  man  bowed  his  head  in 
weariness,  and  then  sat  down  on  the  wooden  bench 
'neath  the  t"rees. 

"  Ye  have  other  tunes  ?  "  asked  Hugh. 

**  Himter  Tom,  you  never  told  me  that  you  were  a 
composer  and  ne'er  played  that  for  me  before.  You 
have  other  melodies  of  your  own;  play  them  for  us," 
said  Ande. 

"  Aye,  I  have  other  tunes,  and  many  of  my  own,  but 
I'm  not  going  to  make  ye  sad  with  an  old  man's  woes. 
I'll  play  ye  '  Chevy  Chase '  and  *  I  See  Three  Ships 
Come  Sailing  In,'  to  make  your  hearts  glad,  and  then  I'll 
give  ye  some  more  of  my  own  composition,"  The 
familiar  airs,  one  after  the  other,  in  sequence,  airs  so 
delightful  to  the  English  ear,  came  forth  from  the  violin 
under  the  magical  touch  of  the  old  man,  and  all  the 
while  the  pilot  listened  as  if  he  was  entranced,  and 
Ande, — it  seemed  as  if  the  green  fields  and  coasts  of 
England  arose  before  him.  Again  he  saw  the  Manor 
and  the  Manor  woods,  the  Bowling  Green  of  old  Hel- 
ston,  and  the  gleaming,  shimmering  waters  of  the  Lowe, 
and  the  rolling  blue  of  the  channel  beyond.    All  passed 


SECRET    OF    THE     SNUFF-BOX    301 

before  him  again  as  if  in  a  dream,  and  then  there  were 
faces  that  passed  before  his  mind,  Tom  Puckinharn, 
Pengilly,  and  Tom  Glaze,  and  the  face  of  his  mother, 
and  back  beyond  all,  a  dark-eyed,  youthful  face,  with 
dark  curling  locks  deep  on  a  broad  brow,  a  countenance, 
merry,  and  with  something  of  the  joyousness  of  spring 
flowers  in  the  gently  flushing  cheeks.  There  was  an 
intense  longing  in  his  eyes  as  he  allowed  his  imagination 
to  roam  at  will.  Ah,  it  was  eight  long  years  since  he 
had  seen  her,  and  heard  those  words :  "  You  are  my 
knight."  Would  she  remember  him  still?  Was  she 
married.'' 

The  thought  gave  him  pain,  and  he  drove  it  from 
him  and  thought  of  other  themes.  The  Primrose  Cot- 
tage arose  clearly  to  his  mind.  Ah,  he  must  get  well 
soon  and  return  to  those  haunts  of  boyhood,  and  to  the 
dear  ones  of  years  ago.  But  what  was  that  that  the 
old  hunter  was  playing?  It  could  not  be  **  Chevy 
Chase."  The  opening  bars  were  swept  off  the  strings 
with  a  master's  hand.  Soft  at  first  and  then  with  louder, 
more  resonant  tones.  The  old  man  was  standing  again, 
his  head  partly  elevated,  a  look  of  hopefulness  on  his 
weather-beaten  countenance.  The  pilot  was  drinking 
in,  with  eager  ears,  the  melody,  and  sat  motionless.  The 
opening  bars  were  finished,  and  the  old  hunter's  voice 
rang  out  clear  and  with  a  wonderful  pathos  in  the  tones. 
He  had  sung  before  in  other  melodies,  but  never  with 
such  feeling  as  now.  Ande  rose  on  one  elbow  and  stared 
excitedly  at  the  old  man.  That  song !  Where  had  he 
learned  it ! 


80«  ANDE     TREMBATH 

"Blithe  bird  of  the  wilderness,  sweet  is  thy  song, 
Blithe  lark  of  the  wildwood,  O,  all  the  day  long, 
A-singing  so  cheerily  in  the  green  tree, 
Thy  anthem  dispels  gloom  and  sorrow  from  me; 
Thou  sayest  in  thy  song,  'What  can   sadness   avail? 
Injustice  shall  fall  and  the  good  shall  prevail.'" 

Old  Hunter  Tom  seemed  wrapped  up  in  the  melody 
and  utterly  oblivious  to  all  things  around  him.  With  a 
low  plaintive  interlude,  he  continued: 

"Yet  bird  of  the  wilderness,  sad  is  our  lot, 
Our  home  confiscated,  our  name   a  sad  blot; 
The  Cornish  chief  stricken  at  Prestonpan's  fight. 
Wounded  at  Culloden  for  King  and  the  right, 
And  captured  at  Braddock's  defeat  in  the  glen 
Was " 

There  was  an  outcry  from  one  of  the  auditors,  that 
interrupted  the  melody. 

"  Hunter  Tom !  Hunter  Tom !  Where  did  you  get 
that  song  ?     Where  ?  " 

The  old  man  had  paused  with  the  bow  in  midair,  and 
with  a  vexed  look  at  being  interrupted,  and  then,  seeing 
the  flushed  countenance  and  gleaming  eyes  of  his 
patient,  thought  the  heat  was  too  much  for  him,  and 
that  his  head  was  affected. 

**  The  heat  of  the  sun  has  afi'ected  his  head,  Hugh. 
Come  let  us  get  him  in  the  shade.*' 

"  No !  No !  Where  did  you  get  that'  melody  ?  "  ex- 
citedly. 

"  I  told  ye  that  I  was  going  to  sing  ye  some  of  my  own 
songs.  It's  my  own  song,  lad,"  soothingly,  "  and  now, 
Hugh » 


•♦Sweet  bird  of  the  wilderness, 
sweet  is  thy  song  ' ' 


SECRET     OF     THE     SNUFF-BOX    303 

"  Oh !  God  be  thanked !  My  father !  My  father !  " 
striving  to  arise  to  his  feet. 

"  The  poor  lad  is  raving,  Hugh,"  and  yet  with  some 
pallor  in  his  bronzed  features. 

"  I  am  not  raving !  You  are  my  father  and  I  am 
your  son ! " 

The  violin  crashed  to  the  ground  and  was  splintered 
on  a  projecting  rock. 

"  No,  no,  you  are  raving,  lad.  I  have  no  son.  They 
are  all  dead,  these  many  years." 

"  Mr.  Ande,"  said  the  pilot,  striving  in  vain  to  calm 
him.    "  Mr.  Trembath " 

"  What ! "  exclaimed  the  old  man  in  agitated  tones. 
"  Is  thy  name  Trembath?    Thy  father's  name,  lad?  " 

"  Major  Thomas  Trembath." 

"Of  where?" 

The  old  man  asked  the  question  with  trembling,  fal- 
tering lips,  eager,  yet  fearful  of  mistake. 

"  Of  Cornwall,  and  Major  under " 

*'  My  son — my  son !  "  The  cry  that  went  up  rent  the 
air  and  startled  even  the  birds  o'erhead.  Old  Tom  was 
down  on  his  knees,  his  arms  encircling  his  patient,  and 
with  streaming  eyes  uplifted  to  the  heavens,  he  mur- 
mured fervently,  "  God,  great  God,  I  thank  thee !  Thou 
art  very  good."  And  then  to  his  new-found  son :  "  But 
they  told  me  that  mother  and  you  were  dead.  The  black 
sealed  letter !  Who  sent  it  ?  It  reached  me  after  Proc- 
tor and  Tecumseh's  defeat  at  the Ah !  I  see  it  all. 

Another  scheme  of  Lanyan's !  A  curse  upon  their  race ! 
But  no,  I  must  be  merciful  since  God  has  been  merciful 


304  ANDE     TREMBATH 

to  me  in  restoring  to  me,  in  my  old  age,  a  son.  Thy 
mother,  lad  ?  " 

"  Is  well  when  I  left  home  and  there  will  be  many 
happy  days  for  her  when  we  return !  and  as  for  me,  I'm 
not  dead,  although  the  Indians  did  near  finish  me." 

"  And  ye  were  all  these  years  searching  for  me?  " 

"  No ;  mother  and  I  thought  you  were  dead,  and  yet, 
at  times,  we  would  have  hope  of  you  still  being  alive. 
I  was  searching  mainly  for  the  honour  of  grandfather 
and  to  remove  the  stain  from  our  name." 

"  A  true  son  of  your  race,"  said  the  old  man  warmly 
and  with  pride.  "  Ye  are  just  the  same  as  I  was  at  your 
age.  I  might  have  known  ye  for  my  son,  and  yet  the 
letter  of  your  death  and  your  mother's  death  took  all 
thought  on  that  subject  from  my  mind." 

The  pilot  with  a  sense  of  delicacy,  and  wondering  to 
himself,  had  withdrawn  from  the  scene  at  the  start, 
but  was  now  returning.  He  saw  them  seated  side  by 
side  on  the  bearskin,  and  seating  himself  near  them 
listened  with  interest  to  the  tales  of  both  father  and  son. 

Before  beginning  his  narrative  of  his  eventful  life 
he  turned  to  the  pilot. 

"  Hugh,  this  is  my  son,  Andrew  Trembath,  who  with 
his  mother  I  had  long  thought  dead,  and  I  must  intro- 
duce myself  also,  for  the  Loop  and  the  settlers  of 
Lycamahoning  will  see  me  not  much  longer.  Now  I 
know  that  my  wife  is  living  I  shall  return  to  the  place 
of  my  birth.  I  have  long  been  known  by  the  name  of 
Hunter  Tom,  and  unknown  by  any  other.  I  am  Thomas 
Trembath,  once  Major  of  the  6th  Royal  Infantry  of 


SECRET     OF     THE     SNUFF-BOX    305 

England,  and  have  been  a  soldier  in  three  wars,  the 
War  of  the  Colonies  against  England,  the  Peninsular 
War  under  the  great  Wellington,  and  the  War  of  1812 
under  Brock  and  Proctor.  The  tale  of  my  whole  life 
would  be  useless,  but  it  is  but  fair  to  my  son  to  narrate 
the  last  one,  and  the  history  of  my  hunter  life  here.  Ye 
must  know  that  there  was  a  stain  of  treason  against 
our  house." 

Hugh  nodded  his  head. 

"  I  mentioned  that  to  him  the  first  night  I  spent  at 
his  home,"  interjected  Ande. 

"  Well,"  continued  the  Major,  "  it  was  mainly  for  the 
purpose  of  removing  the  stain  that  I  came  to  this  region 
from  Spain.  I  would  have  much  preferred  to  fight 
under  the  Iron  Duke  and  against  the  French  than 
against  the  Americans,  but  the  thought  of  once  more 
being  in  the  region  where  my  father  was  shot,  and  possi- 
bly gleaning  something  of  value  that  would  remove  the 
stain  of  treason,  spurred  me  on.  Our  regiment  was  on 
board  the  Royal  George  and  landed  at  Quebec,  and  from 
thence  to  the  interior  it  was  a  weary  march,  only  part 
of  the  time  alleviated  by  canoe  trips.  At  first  we  were 
under  that  worthy  imitator  of  Wellington,  Brock,  and 
had  he  lived  I  have  no  doubt  but  what  the  war  would 
have  terminated  differently ;  but  he  was  slain,  and  Proc- 
tor, a  stain  on  British  generalship,  was  placed  in  his 
stead.  My  life  was  spent  part  of  the  time  with  my 
regiment  and  then,  for  some  months,  I  was  an  agent  of 
the  government  among  the  Indians  of  the  Ohio.  It 
was  my  purpose  to  glean  from  them,  of  ray  own  account, 


306  ANDE     TREMBATH 

news  of  my  father.  Possibly  some  aged  chiefs  would 
still  remember  the  capture  of  my  father,  and  would 
know  something  of  his  being  found  in  French  uniform 
with  a  French  commission  as  captain  in  his  pocket. 
Should  he  be  guiltless  of  any  treason  against  England 
these  savages,  being  so  closely  allied  with  the  French 
of  that  time,  would  no  doubt  know  of  it.  Since  they 
were  our  allies  then  and  friendly,  an  affidavit  from  them 
might  be  of  some  service.  An  Indian's  word  is  as  good 
as  another  in  a  court  of  law.  I  overcame  the  natural 
repugnance  that  I  had  to  them,  and  ingratiated  myself 
with  them.  An  old  chief  gave  me  much  knowledge  of 
my  father's  capture,  but  concerning  the  rest  nothing 
was  to  be  learned.  Then  I  thought  of  the  second  plan. 
My  father  had  a  great  knowledge  of  mining  and  metals, 
and,  while  he  was  resident  with  the  Indians  of  the  Kit- 
tanning  region,  learned  the  secret  of  a  mine  somewhere 
in  the  neighbourhood  of  the  Lycamahoning.  I  resolved 
to  discover  the  whereabouts  of  the  mine  and  possibly 
solve  my  father's  honour  at  the  same  time.  I  learned 
much  as  to  its  location,  but  nearly  lost  my  life  by  my 
incautious  repetition  of  the  Indian  legend,  for  on  the 
way  back  to  Maiden  I  was  slightly  wounded  by  an 
Indian.  From  that  time  on  we  were  busy  fighting,  and 
due  to  the  conduct  of  our  own  generals  we  lost  Michi- 
gan and  a  part  of  Canada.  It  was  after  the  fatal 
battle  of  the  Thames  that  I  received  the  letter  from 
home  that  filled  my  heart  with  sorrow  and  made  me  an 
exile.  It  was  a  cruel  letter,  stating  that  my  wife  and 
boy  were  dead.    England  had  no  more  charms  for  me. 


SECRET     OF     THE     SNUFF-BOX    SOI 

I  plunged  off  into  the  wilderness  of  New  York  and  Penn- 
sylvania, and  after  a  few  years  worked  my  way  into 
this  region.  I  hunted  for  many  years  before  I  resolved 
to  make  it  my  home.  The  mine  I  searched  for  again 
and  again,  but  met  no  success,  and  I  finally  gave  it  up 
in  despair.  Then  I  built  the  cabin  here,  and  the  rest 
of  the  tale  is  known  to  you  both  as  well  as  myself. 
Though  I  have  not  discovered  the  honour  of  my  father, 
yet  I  shall  return  to  my  old  home  and  take  up  my  former 
Ufe." 

The  Major  finished  his  tale. 

*'  Ye  have  had  a  wonderful  life,  Tom,"  said  the  pilot, 
**  and  I'll  be  right  sorry  to  see  you  leave,  but  I  have  no 
doubt  that  Mr.  Ande  has  a  tale  to  tell?  "  He  gazed 
questioningly  at  Ande  Trembath. 

Ande,  thus  summoned,  related  the  story  of  his  life. 
The  Helston  Grammar  School,  the  smugglers,  and  that 
long  night  with  Dick  on  the  waves  of  the  channel,  the 
rescue  by  an  outward  bound  Brazilian  ship,  their  adven- 
tures in  Brazil,  and  their  sojourn  in  Minos  Geraes  in  the 
Sierra  Do  Frio  district,  were  all  successively  dwelt  on, 
but  he  mentioned  not  the  wealth  he  had  accumulated 
there. 

"  Mr.  Ande,"  said  the  pilot,  after  he  had  finished, 
"  do  ye  ken  aught  of  the  metal  box  I  handed  up  from 
the  old  excavation  that  night?  " 

"  The  metal  box  ?  Why,  it  must  be  still  in  the  pocket 
of  my  coat,  that  I  have  not  worn  since  that  eventful 
time." 

The  Major  entered  the  cabin  and  soon  returned  with 


308  ANDE     TREMBATH 

the  garment.  The  box  was  still  there,  from  the  bulg- 
ing appearance  of  the  exterior. 

"  Father,  take  it  out  and  examine  it." 

The  old  Major  did  so. 

"  Truly,  an  ancient  specimen,"  said  he,  and  then  he 
started,  for  there  on  the  one  side  was  the  engraved 
figure  of  a  warrior  galloping  amidst  ocean  waves.  He 
turned  it  over,  and  on  the  silver  lid,  in  slightly  worn 
characters,  was  the  following: 

CAFTAIK  AKDREW  TREMBATH 

"  'Tis  the  snuff-box  of  my  father ! "  exclaimed  the 
Major,  trembling  with  excitement.  "  At  last  the  secret 
of  his  latter  life  may  be  explained.  God  be  thanked 
if  it  can !  " 

The  box  was  opened  and,  crowding  around  it,  they 
examined  the  contents.  A  few  papers,  yellow  with  age, 
met  their  vision.  The  first  was  extracted,  opened,  and 
spread  out. 

"  A  letter  from  thy  grandmother  to  thy  grandfather, 
son  Ande,"  said  the  Major,  and  he  read  it  with  an  agi- 
tated voice.  The  next,  a  small  book,  was  taken  out, 
and  the  Major  turning  to  the  fly  leaf  read,  "  The  Diary 
of  Captain  Ande  Trembath."  The  first  part  was  a 
record  of  sundry  things  at  home  in  the  palmy  days 
when  Captain  Ande  Trembath  was  Squire  of  Trembath 
Manor,  and  the  Major  hurried  over  it,  for  he  was  in- 
terested in  what  was  beyond.  Toward  the  middle  of  the 
diary  he  paused,  and  began  to  read. 


SECRET     OF     THE     SNUFF-BOX    309 

"  8th  July,  1755.  We  are  not  more  than  twenty  miles  from 
Du  Quesne,  and  in  a  day  or  so  we  will  see  the  flag  of  our  country 
planted  on  that  fortress.  So  far  no  attempt  has  been  made  to 
hinder  our  march.    The  enemy  must  be  demoralised." 

**  Ah,  Braddock  and  his  soldiers  had  great  confi- 
dence," said  the  Major;  "  but  see  here  is  a  great  blank 
of  many  days."  He  hurried  over  the  blank  pages  and 
again  paused  and  began  to  read. 

"  Nov.  30th,  1755.  Quite  a  time  has  elapsed  since  writing. 
The  glorious  hopes  of  our  army  were  shattered  in  a  day  by  a 
few  hundred  savages.  I  was  wounded  and  left  on  the  field  for 
dead.  When  I  came  to  myself  I  saw  an  Indian  face  bending  o'er 
me.  It  was  Musqueta,  a  sub-chief  under  Shingas,  and  seeing 
me  able  to  move  and  alive  he  promptly  took  me  prisoner,  and 
with  a  few  others  I  was  taken  to  the  chiefs  headquarters,  the 
Indian  town  of  Kittanning.  They  told  me  the  whole  army  was 
slain.  Incredible  fact!  I  was  not  able  to  write  on  account  of 
my  bonds.  I  learned  their  language  and  they  had  some  idea  of 
adopting  me  into  their  tribe.  Indeed,  Musqueta  had  lost  a  son, 
and  no  doubt  it  was  on  account  of  that  that  he  spared  me  at  the 
defeat,  hoping  to  adopt  me  into  the  tribe  as  his  own  son.  The 
thing  was  detestable  to  me,  and  I  refused  all  offers  of  the  kind. 
Then  I  was  forced  to  run  the  gauntlet,  but  it  was  my  salvation, 
for,  seizing  a  club  and  leaping  through  the  weakest  part  of  their 
grinning  line,  I  escaped  by  my  running  powers.  The  swiftest 
foot  of  old  Cornwall  can  outstrip  the  savage." 

"  He  must  have  been  a  swift  runner,"  interjected 
Hugh. 

"  He  was  that,  but  we  must  see  what  happened  after 
his  escape.  All  this  I  knew  before  by  my  conversation 
with  the  Shawnese  under  Tecumseh  when  I  was  an 
Indian  agent,  but  nothing  more,"  said  the  Major,  and 
turning  to  the  diary  he  again  resumed. 


SIO  ANDE     TREMBATH 

"  There  was  a  shout  and  such  a  yelling  when  I  escaped  that 
it  almost  unnerved  me,  but  I  distanced  my  pursuers,  and  utterly 
left  them  in  the  course  of  a  mile  or  so.  My  escape  was  toward 
the  north  along  the  banks  of  the  river,  but  I  had  not  gone  more 
than  a  few  miles  before  I  encountered  a  small  detachment  of 
French  troops.  There  was  no  getting  by  them  at  first,  but  at 
length  I  succeeded,  after  having  first  slain  the  French  captain, 
their  commander,  which,  since  I  could  not  avoid  it,  I  trust  God 
will  forgive  me.  I  accidentally  met  him  in  the  wood,  slew  him, 
and  since  I  could  better  make  my  escape  in  a  French  uniform, 
the  whole  region  being  French,  I  exchanged  clothes.  A  commis- 
sion was  in  his  pocket,  in  which  commission  I  inserted  my  own 
name  for  greater  security." 

The  old  Major  paused  and  wiped  the  tears  of  joy 
from  his  eyes  and  murmured,  "  Thank  God  for  that. 
Ande,  my  son,  our  family  name  may  now  stand  forth  as 
honourable  and  upright  as  any  in  the  British  Isles.  He 
was  no  traitor.  Here  is  the  proof.  We  will  depart  for 
England  and  lay  this  diary  before  the  authorities  and 
get  the  signatures  of  Hugh,  here,  and  the  other  settlers 
in  testimony."  The  diary  was  forgotten  for  a  moment, 
but  the  pilot  was  intensely  interested  in  what  followed. 

"  Read  on,  Tom,  and  let's  see  what  happened,  and 
how  he  got  to  this  region,"  said  he. 

Major  Trembath  resumed  reading. 

"  I  arrived  the  same  day  at  the  mouth  of  a  small'  stream 
coming  from  the  east,  where  I  found  a  canoe." 

"  Must  have  been  the  mouth  of  the  Lycamahoning," 
said  the  pilot. 

"  Aye,"  said  the  Major,  and  continued: 

"  Up  this  stream  I  journeyed  for  fidly  ten  miles  when  the 


SECRET    OF    THE     SNUFF-BOX    311 

force  of  the  current  became  swifter,  and  I  perceived  that  there 
were  rapids  ahead,  and  so  once  more  took  to  the  land,  carrying 
the  canoe,  since  it  was  a  light  affair,  with  me.  I  was  anxious 
to  place  as  many  miles  between  me  and  the  Kittanning  region 
as  possible.  I  am  now  fully  forty  miles  from  the  enemy  and 
deem  myself  safe  for  the  time  at  least.  Knowing  their  language, 
I  discovered  a  secret  when  among  them — the  existence  of  a 
silver  cldorado,  and  from  remarks  I  surmise  it  must  be  nigh  my 
present  location. 

"Dec.  1st,  1755.  I  have  found  the  location  of  the  eldorado. 
I  shall  remain  a  time  and  investigate. 

"  Dec.  25th,  1755.  It  is  Christmas  day,  but  I  cannot  keep  it  in 
the  old  style.  I  haTC  laid  in  a  supply  of  deer  meat  for  the 
winter.  In  the  spring  I  shall  endeavour  to  find  my  way  east  to 
Standing  Stone  and  be  once  more  among  the  loyal  people  of  the 
crown.  Excavated  two  feet  of  the  mine.  It  is  either  sulphide  of 
lead  or  silver  or  both." 

The  Major  ceased  reading  and  ran  over  in  silence  a 
number  of  short  entries,  then  paused,  and  then  continued 
reading : 

"  August  1st,  1756.  I  shall  work  for  a  day  or  so  yet  and  then 
taking  some  of  the  stuff  east  with  me  get  it  assayed.  The  hunt- 
ing parties  of  Indians  are  becoming  more  numerous,  and  I  can- 
not stay  much  longer  concealed.  In  a  few  days  I  shall  start  for 
Standing  Stone." 

"  The  last  entry,"  said  the  Major,  as  he  closed  the 
diary  and  replaced  it  in  the  snuff-box.  "  The  subse- 
quent events  are  as  clear  to  me  as  if  they  were  written 
on  paper.  The  snuff-box,  with  its  contents,  was  lost 
in  the  old  excavation  some  time  before  my  father  left 
the  neighbourhood.  Later  he  left  the  section,  and  on 
his  overland  trip  encountered  Armstrong's  troops,  who 


312  ANDE     TREMBATH 

shot  him  by  mistake.     The  honour  of  our  name  is 
cleared." 

Early  the  following  spring  a  canoe  was  seen  de- 
scending the  Big  Lycamahoning.  Two  occupants  were 
in  it,  Major  Thomas  Trembath  and  his  son.  They 
were  going  to  shoot  the  rapids  of  the  Rough  Water, 
and  descending  the  river  to  Pittsburgh  depart  thence  to 
the  sea  coast,  and,  to  use  the  Major's  own  expression, 
**  From  there,  home  to  Merrie  England." 


CHAPTER   XXVIII 


MISFORTUNES 


**  'TIS  a  downright  shame,"  said  bluff  Captain  Tom 
Lanyan,  with  some  warmth,  as  he  flung  his  grey  hair 
back  from  the  livid  scar  along  his  forehead,  and  stumped 
once  or  twice  up  and  down  the  room  in  indignation. 

"  A  shame  rather  to  Miss  Midget,  herself,  to  refuse 
the  alliance  of  a  house  like  ours,"  snapped  Mistress 
Betty. 

"  Now  the  old  squire  is  in  ill  health  and  the  estate  is 
entirely  within  your  power,  brother  James.  I  say  it's 
a  shame  to  pester  the  poor  girl  to  marry  Richard,  if  she 
doesn't  want  to,"  continued  the  captain. 

"  Very  well,"  said  Sir  James  with  the  slightest  trace 
of  a  scowl  on  his  placid  features,  "  she  shall  not  be 
pestered  any  longer,  although  many  a  girl  would  jump 
at  the  chance.    I  have  changed  my  plans." 

"  Bless  you,  brother,  you  are  more  generous  than  I 
thought,"  and  the  captain's  face  actually  lighted  up 
with  a  smile,  that  was  like  the  sunshine_on  a  beetling, 
ragged  cliff. 

"  I  have  changed  my  plans,"  continued  Sir  James, 
"  I  have  another  plan  for  Richard.  Of  what  benefit  is  it 
to  us  to  have  an  alliance  with  a  fallen  family.  It  would 
be  much  better  to  seek  the  Godolphin  family.    There  is 

313 


314.       ANDE  TREMBATH 

the  daughter  of  Lady  Godolphin,  who  will  fall  heir  to  the 
inheritance  that  a  prince  might  envy,  and  I  do  not  think 
the  earl  would  oppose  my  purpose,  for  the  fortunes  of 
the  Lanyans  are  ascending.  With  the  Godolphins  baclc 
of  me,  securely  tied  in  alliance,  I  could  demand  anything 
from  the  government,  and  obtain  it." 

"  I  shall  not  marry  the  daughter  of  Godolphin,"  said 
young  Mr.  Richard,  and  his  thin  lips,  so  like  his  father's, 
closed  in  a  narrow,  determined  line.  "  I  shall  marry 
Mistress  Alice  Vivian."  Sir  James's  features  flashed 
with  anger.  Richard  Lanyan  continued  unawed.  "  The 
squire  is  in  favour  of  it,  and  you  were  yourself  some 
time  ago.    It  remains  only  for  the  girl  to  be  won  over." 

*'  Yes,  I  was  in  favour  of  it,  but  that  was  when  the 
Vivians  were  in  good  circumstances.  The  old  squire 
proposed  it,  himself,  years  ago,  but  times  have  altered. 
There  shall  be  no  alliance  with  the  Vivians.  Godolphin 
is  friendly  and  is  relying  upon  me  for  support  in  the 
House  of  Commons.  For  the  last  two  weeks  things  have 
looked  most  favourable  toward  an  alliance  with  the  most 
distinguished  and  powerful  family  of  Cornwall,  and  I 
am  not  one  to  slight  the  opportunities  presented."  There 
was  determination  in  Sir  James's  tones. 

"  I  shall  marry  Mistress  Alice  Vivian,"  said  the  son. 

*'  You  shall  not,"  with  a  click  of  the  jaws. 

"  I  shall,"  with  an  answering,  determined  click. 
Richard  Lanyan  turned  on  his  heel  and  left  the  hall. 

"  It  will  be  so  much  better,  after  all,"  said  Mistress 
Betty,  echoing  her  brother's  thoughts.  "  Our  family 
might  rival  the  Godolphins  in  time.     Miss  Midget  will 


MISFORTUNES  315 

be  sorry  the  day  she  ever  refused.  I  must  set  myself  to 
win  Richard  over  from  his  infatuation,  and  I  flatter 
myself  I  shall  succeed.  When  did  a  woman  ever  fail?  '* 
Mistress  Betty  tilted  her  heavy  eagle  nose  at  an  angle, 
as  much  as  to  say,  you'll  soon  see  how  a  woman's  superior 
wisdom  will  manage  it. 

The  old  captain  slowly  shook  his  head  as  if  in  doubt. 

"  You  may  manage  it,  and  I  hope  you  will,  but  I 
would  as  soon  attack  a  battery  of  artillery  as  try  and 
turn  a  man  away  from  the  girl  of  his  choice.  I  hope  you 
will  succeed,  for  the  girl  doesn't  want  Richard,  and  it  is 
a  shame  to  pester  her  and  the  poor  old  squire.  I  am  glad 
the  thing  is  settled,  though,  in  brother  James's  mind,  for 
you'll  let  them  stay,  brother  James  ?  " 

"  Squire  Vivian  must  pay  the  mortgage  within  a  week, 
when  it  comes  due,  or  leave  the  premises.  I  already  have 
a  tenant  for  the  Manor  should  he  fail." 

"  But — Zounds !  That's  an  outrage !  "  fumed  Cap- 
tain Tom. 

"  Nothing  but  a  common  procedure  of  law,"  asserted 
Sir  James,  coolly. 

"  Aye,  it  all  sounds  fine  enough,  and  I  suppose  it  must 
be  so,"  said  the  captain,  angrily  shaking  his  head,  and 
stumping  up  and  down ;  "  but  'tis  an  outrage  all  the 
same.  The  poor  old  squire  will  be  driven  out  without  a 
home." 

"  Captain  Tom,  don't  be  unreasonable.  You  know 
that  Squire  Vivian  will  not  be  homeless,  for  James 
intends  to  let  him  have  the  Primrose  Cottage  at  a  nom- 
inal rent,"  said  Mistress  Betty,  championing  Sir  James. 


316  ANDE     TREMBATH 

**  Aye,  and  the  poor  widow,  Trembath,  has  already 
been  driven  from  the  Primrose  Cottage,  and  whether  she 
is  in  the  Union  Home,  or  elsewhere,  no  one  knows.  Is 
that  just,  James?  " 

"  The  Trembaths  were  traitors  to  the  government,*' 
said  Sir  James,  wincing  a  little  under  Tom's  sharp 
shaft,  "  and  beside  I  am  not  responsible  for  her  loss  of 
money  by  investment.  I  offered  to  loan  her  the  money, 
and  took  a  mortgage.  How  could  I  know  that  the 
investment  would  fail?  " 

"  You  advised  her,"  said  Captain  Tom,  bluntly. 

"  It  was  her  own  doing,"  said  Sir  James,  sharply, 
"  and  besides  it  has  all  turned  out  favourably  to  us. 
We  can't  all  be  on  top  of  the  heap.  Captain  Tom ;  some 
must  be  up  and  some  must  be  down  to  make  room  for 
those  who  get  up.  It's  a  law  of  nature,  the  survival  of 
the  fittest,  and  through  it  all  the  circumstances  of  the 
Lanyans  ana  better  now  than  they  have  been  for  a  hun- 
dred years."  So  saying,  Sir  James  turned  on  his  heel 
and  wended  his  way  into  the  library,  where  he  was  soon 
absorbed  in  his  London  mail.  Captain  Tom  called  for 
his  horse  and  rode  off  to  Helston,  and  Mistress  Betty 
retired  to  her  own  private  apartments. 

Such  were  the  scenes  that  happened  two  years  previous 
to  the  discovery  of  Major  Thomas  Trembath  by  his  son 
Ande  at  the  Loop.  At  Trembath  Manor  was  a  far  dif- 
ferent scene. 

'*  Ally,  dear,  draw  the  curtains  and  let  me  look  out 
once  more  on  the  park,"  said  the  querulous  voice  of  the 
old  squire.     A  tall,  young  lady,  with  a  sweet,  though 


MISFORTUNES  317 

pallid  countenance,  arose  to  do  his  bidding.  The  cur- 
tains were  withdrawn,  and  the  bright  afternoon  sunshine 
flooded  the  sick  man's  bed  chamber,  and  cast  a  halo  of 
brightness  o'er  his  features.  But  what  a  countenance! 
Time  and  sickness  had  wrought  great  changes.  The 
old,  hale,  hearty,  rubicund  look  was  replaced  by  the  pale, 
pained  expression  of  suffering. 

"  Come  hither,  dear." 

Alice  approached  the  bedside,  and  the  old  squire, 
taking  her  hand,  looked  at  her  earnestly  for  a  moment. 

"  I  have  fallen  Into  the  hands  of  a  cruel  master,  my 
child.  He  who  was  my  friend  Is  partly  responsible  for 
my  position.  After  all  I  did  for  him,  working  for  his 
election  to  Parliament  some  years  ago ;  for  you  must 
understand,  dear,  that  had  it  not  been  for  old  Squire 
Vivian  and  some  of  his  friends.  Sir  James  Lanyan  would 
not  now  represent  our  section.  And  how  has  he  repaid 
it  ?  "  continued  the  old  man  bitterly,  and  angrily. 

"  Father,"  laying  her  cool  hand  on  his  throbbing 
temples,  "  you  know  the  doctor  says  you  must  not  excite 
yourself." 

"  Aye,  I  know.  I  know,  Allie,  but  I  can't  help  speak- 
ing of  it.  He  inveigled  me  into  schemes  of  his  own 
making,  purposely,  I  believe  now,  to  ruin  me,  and  get  the 
estate  and  the  mine  into  his  own  hands.  A  dastard !  A 
selfish  villain!  And  now  he  Is  going  to  foreclose  the 
mortgage,  and  in  a  week,  my  poor  Allie,  your  old  sick 
father  and  yourself  will  be  without  a  roof  to  shelter 
them.  An  ungenerous  rogue ! "  said  the  old  man  with 
another  burst  of  anger. 


318  ANDE     TREMBATH 

*'  Never  mind,  father,  you  have  rae,  your  Allie,  left, 
and  I'll  take  care  of  you,"  and  she  smoothed  down  his 
scattered  locks  and  laid  her  cheek  close  to  his.  The 
action  and  words  seemed  to  quiet  the  old  squire  for  a 
time,  and  he  kissed  the  pale  cheek  of  his  daughter. 

"  You  are  a  good  daughter.  Has  Mr.  Richard  Lan- 
yan  been  here  to-day  ?  " 

"  No,  father." 

"  Has  his  man — Bob  Sloan — as  untrustworthy  as  the 
villain,  Sir  James — has  he  been  here?  " 

*'  No,  father,"  endeavouring  to  soothe  him. 

*'  Aye,  he  is  giving  me  time  to  think ;  you  know  his 
proposition,  child,"  said  the  old  man  gently.  "  I  shall 
not  live  long,  and  it  distresses  me  to  think  of  my  child 
homeless  when  I  am  gone."  He  laid  his  hand,  that  once 
stout,  brown  hand,  now  pale  and  thin,  upon  the  bowed 
head  of  the  girl,  who  was  silently  weeping.  "  It  may 
prolong  my  life  if  you  accept  Richard,  and  our  home 
will  be  yours.  Long  ago,  before  I  knew  of  the  villainy 
of  Sir  James,  I  purposed  in  my  heart  your  marriage 
to  Richard.  Now,  though  I  know  the  father  and  his 
trickery,  yet  I  think  I  know  the  son,  Richard,  and  I 
believe  him  free  from  his  father's  faults.  He  seems  a 
good  young  man  and  talented,  and  loves  you,  child,  sin- 
cerely, and  he  may  make  up  in  kindness  to  you  for  the 
injustice  done  to  me.  Years  ago,  in  my  strength,  I 
thought  it  must  be  so,  but  now  I  have  learned  many 
things  by  sickness,  and  I  would  not  urge  you  against 
your  will." 

"  Father,"  said  the  girl,  raising  her  tear-stained  face, 


MISFORTUNES  319 

**  if  it  will  make  you  live  longer  I  will  not  oppose ;  I  will 
freely  and  gladly  consent.  I  will  do  anything  to  add 
to  your  life.  Have  you  not  been  both  a  kind,  loving 
father  and  mother  to  me.''  " 

"  Bless  you,  my  dear  AUie,"  said  the  squire  as  he  sank 
back  exhausted,  and  then,  in  a  whisper,  "  'Tis  better  than 
doctor's  medicine.  Call  Stephen  Blunt — and  write  an 
answer  to  James  Lanyan's  letter  that  you  will  find  in 
yon  desk." 

Alice  gave  the  order  and  sat  herself  down  at  the  desk 
to  answer  as  briefly  as  possibly  the  epistle  of  Lanyan. 
It  was  soon  written,  and  the  next  moment  Stephen  Blunt 
appeared.  He  came  in  looking  more  bent  and  decrepit 
than  usual,  for  the  sickness  of  his  master  was  weighing 
heavy  upon  him. 

"  Stephen,"  said  the  squire  faintly,  "  send  one  of  the 
servants  with  that  to  Lanyan  Hall  and  await  a  reply." 

The  taciturn,  old  steward  took  the  missive  handed  him 
by  Alice,  bowed  and  withdrew.  A  great  load  seemed  to 
be  removed  from  the  old  squire's  mind,  and  he  slept 
peacefully  for  three  hours.  By  that  time  the  servant 
had  returned  with  the  answer.  Alice  would  have  rather 
read  it  herself  first,  but  the  querulous  voice  of  the  squire 
must  not  be  resisted,  and  so  she  passed  it  unopened  to 
him.  He  unfolded  it  with  trembling,  eager  hands,  and 
devoured  the  few  lines  written  there.  His  countenance 
grew  paler,  and  then  flushed  an  angry  hue,  until  the 
great  veins  on  his  brow  stood  forth  like  whipcords. 

"  What !  What !  It  can't  be  so !  "  he  shrieked.  He 
crushed  the  letter  in  his  hands  with  rage  and  was  about 


320  ANDE     TREMBATH 

to  fling  it  from  him,  but  the  motion  and  passion  was  too 
much  for  him,  and  with  a  gasp  he  fell  backward — 
unconscious.  The  crushed  letter  dropped  from  his 
relaxed  hand  and  fell  to  the  floor,  where  it  remained 
unnoticed  for  the  time. 

**  To  the  doctor,  quick ! "  said  Stephen  Blunt  to  the 
servant  that  was  in  the  room.  The  servant  was  down 
and  out  in  a  moment.  The  same  horse  that  carried  him 
to  the  Lanyans'  was  near  at  hand,  and  he  vaulted 
into  the  saddle,  and  went  tearing  down  the  carriage 
drive. 

With  a  shriek  of  "  My  father !  "  Alice  fell  to  the  floor 
in  a  faint. 

"  Carry  her  to  her  rooms !  He  is  not  dead !  I  will 
not  believe  it  until  the  doctor  comes,"  said  old  Stephen 
Blunt.  The  servants  carried  their  young  mistress  to 
her  apartments,  while  Stephen,  murmuring  many  things 
to  himself,  bathed  the  squire's  forehead  until  the  physi- 
cian came.  In  a  few  minutes  there  was  the  sound  of 
clattering  hoofs  on  the  gravel  of  the  driveway,  then  a 
rapid  step  on  the  stairs,  and  the  physician  was  in  the 
sick  man*s  room.    A  look  and  a  touch  sufficed. 

"  He  is  past  help.  It  is  as  I  feared — a  sudden  stroke 
of  apoplexy  produced  by  some  shock."  He  picked  up 
the  crumpled  letter  from  the  floor,  opened  it,  read  it  with 
compressed  lips,  and  placed  it  in  his  pocket. 

The  news  spread  o'er  the  whole  village  with  the 
rapidity  of  wildfire,  and  by  night  every  man,  woman  and 
child  knew  and  sympathised  with  the  bereavement  at  the 
Manor,  for  Squire  Vivian  was  generally  liked. 


MISFORTUNES  321 

The  funeral  was  held  in  the  parish  church,  and  old 
Parson  Trant  preached  the  sermon.  With  his  eyes  wet 
with  the  flood  of  sympathy  and  sorrow,  and  his  voice 
unsteady  and  quivering,  he  delivered  to  the  hushed  mul- 
titudes an  address  upon  "  How  are  the  mighty  fallen." 
He  called  to  their  minds  the  deeds  of  the  squire  and  his 
open,  frank,  generous  life  in  such  a  tender  manner  that 
many  of  the  audience  wept  in  sorrow  as  acute  as  his  own. 
There  was  possibly  one  of  that  audience  who  felt  more 
keenly  than  others,  and  he  bowed  his  head  down  as  if 
ashamed  to  meet  the  gaze  of  the  people  around  him.  It 
was  Captain  Tom  Lanyan.  His  sorrow  was  increased 
with  the  thought  that  it  was  some  action  of  his  brother 
that  caused  the  squire's  death.  None  of  the  other  Lan- 
yans  were  present.  Sir  James  had  to  leave  to  attend  to 
some  business  in  Plymouth,  and,  informing  his  lawyer  to 
foreclose  the  mortgage  on  the  estate  and  tin  mine  and 
secure  a  tenant  for  the  Manor,  he  embarked  on  the 
first  vessel  from  Falmouth.  Mistress  Betty  was  ill  of 
same  fancied  ailment,  and  Richard  was,  no  one  knew 
where. 

After  the  funeral  there  was  much  condolence  offered 
to  Mistress  Alice  Vivian,  but  no  personal  help,  no  one 
being  aware  that  the  Manor  and  even  the  home  furniture 
had  passed  out  of  the  hands  of  the  Vivian  family.  But 
Alice  knew,  and  with  a  sickening  sense  of  loneliness  and 
helplessness  she  passed  out  of  the  gates  of  the  Manor 
on  the  evening  of  the  same  day  of  the  funeral.  She  had 
packed  up  her  little  personal  belongings  and  had  for- 
warded them  that  afternoon  to  Penzance,  where  she  in- 


322  ANDE     TREMBATH 

tended  following  on  the  morrow.  With  a  heart  full  of 
unuttered  grief  she  wended  her  way  to  the  old  parish 
church  and  churchyard  to  pay  a  last  visit  to  her  father's 
tomb.  The  sun  had  long  since  disappeared  beneath  the 
horizon,  and  the  pale,  glimmering  moon  flooded  hill  and 
dale  with  ghostly,  limpid  light,  whitening  the  cornices 
of  the  old  church  tower  in  the  distance,  deepening  the 
shadows  'neath  the  trees,  and  bringing  into  gleaming 
prominence  the  white  monuments  of  the  departed.  The 
gates  of  the  cemetery  were  passed  at  length,  but  there 
was  no  fear  or  terror  in  her  heart.  Why  should  she  fear? 
The  dead  could  not  hurt  her,  and  it  was  less  lonely  here 
than  in  the  great,  empty  Manor  house.  The  church  door 
was  not  locked,  and  opening  it  she  passed  down  the  long 
aisle,  the  tile  work  underneath  echoing  hollowly  to  her 
faint  tread.  Near  the  altar  was  the  tomb  of  her  father. 
The  moonbeams,  penetrating  the  coloured  windows, 
illuminated  it  with  a  soft  warm  radiance,  so  clear,  that 
the  lettering  could  be  easily  discerned.  She  contem- 
plated the  inscription  with  tearful,  stony  gaze  and  then 
read  softly  to  herself: 

Richard  Vivian,  Esa. 

Trembath  Manor 

"  How  are  the  mighty  fallen." 

It  was  the  text  of  the  funeral  sermon  that  was  inscribed 
below.  There  was  nothing  more  save  the  dates  of  birth 
and  death.  Suddenly  a  keener  sense  of  her  loss  and  lone- 
liness came  upon  her,  and  she  bowed  herself  to  the  floor, 
giving  vent  to  the  first  outpouring  of  grief — a  grief 


MISFORTUNES  323 

that  she  had  restrained  until  then.  Sobs  and  cries,  low, 
yet  full  of  grief,  shook  and  convulsed  her  frame. 

"  Oh,  father!  father!  do  you  know  how  lonely  I  am? 
I  am  your  daughter,  your  Allie,  and  you  always  wanted 
me  near  you.  I  am  here  near  you,  father,  and  yet  I 
cannot  feel  your  presence,  for  you  are  gone  and  I  am 
alone."  A  great  sob  checked  her  utterance,  and  for  a 
long  time  she  struggled  with  her  grief,  murmuring  inco- 
herently, and,  then  arising,  she  dried  her  eyes. 

"  Perhaps  he  sees  still,  and  pities  my  grief  and  soli- 
tude. Parson  Trant  said  that  the  dead  are  more  alive 
than  the  living — '  I  am  the  God  of  Abraham,  Isaac  and 
Jacob;  God  is  not  the  God  of  the  dead,  but  of  the 
living.'  "  She  quoted  the  Scripture  passage  softly  to 
herself,  and  it  seemed  to  give  some  comfort.  "  Yes,  he 
must  see  and  hear."  A  noise  near  the  distant  tower 
door  startled  her.  She  gazed  that  way,  though  not  in 
fear.  Who  could  be  in  these  sacred  precincts  at  night 
beside  herself.''  she  asked  mentally.  The  noise  was  not 
repeated.  It  was  some  owl  or  bat,  or  perhaps  it  was  a 
slight  breeze  that  had  moved  the  slightly  opened  door, 
she  thought,  and  then  turning  to  the  altar  she  knelt 
down  in  prayer. 

"  O  God,  I  have  now  no  father,  no  friend,  no  helper 
but  Thee.  I  am  friendless,  homeless,  poor  and  lonely. 
Be  my  helper  and  give  me  strength.  Be  my  father,  O 
Thou  who  art  above,  and  hold  me  in  Thy  protecting 
arms.  Thou  art  the  defence  of  the  widow  and  the  father- 
less ;  be  Thou  the  defence  of  the  fatherless  now  and  hold 
me  in  the  hollow  of  Thy  hand.     O  God,  all  Thy  waves 


324  ANDE     TREMBATH 

and  Thy  billows  have  gone  over  my  soul.  At  one  blow 
I  lose  all.  Supported  by  a  father's  love,  it  is  taken  from 
me;  reared  in  comfort,  I  am  reduced  to  bitter  poverty; 
surrounded  by  friends — ^yet  to-day  alone  and  helpless, 
and  yet, — Thou  wilt  not  forsake  me,  for  Thou  dost 
mark  the  sparrow's  fall.  I  go  a  stranger  among 
strangers  in  a  strange  land,  yet  Thou  wilt  not  forsake 
me.  Oh,  be  a  light  to  my  feet,  a  guide  to  my  way,  and 
a  stay  in  my  helplessness." 

Some  time  more  she  spent  at  the  altar  in  silent 
prayer,  and  then  arising  and  casting  a  long  lingering 
look  at  the  silent  tomb  near  her,  she  slowly  wended  her 
way  down  the  silent  and  deserted  church,  and  thence 
on  and  out  of  the  cemetery. 

Without  she  walked  rapidly  along  the  highway,  when 
the  figure  of  a  man  emerged  from  the  shadow  of  the 
cemetery  gate  and  followed  and  overtook  her. 

"  Mistress  Alice,"  he  said,  laying  a  detaining  hand 
on  her  arm.  She  started  and  would  have  fled,  but  he 
restrained  her.  "  Yob  are  out  late ;  let  me  attend 
you." 

"  I  asked  not  your  escort,  Mr.  Richard  Lanyan." 

"  Ah,  but  I  choose  to  give  it,"  said  the  young  man, 
in  a  determined  tone,  and  then  added :  "  Mistress  Alice, 
why  will  you  not  listen  to  reason.?  You  know  that  you 
are  friendless  and  poor  and  I  would  help  you, — yes,  lay 
down  my  life  for  you.    I '* 

"  I  do  not  require  your  aid.  Why  do  you  push  your 
attentions  upon  me  when  you  know  they  are  unwelcome, 
and  especially  at  this  sad  time?  " 


MISFORTUNES 

**  Ah,  but  Mistress  Alice,  my  love  for  you " 

She  gave  an  impatient  gesture. 

"  Have  I  not  often  said  that  it  is  vain  and  useless. 
I  do  not  wish  it,  and  your  father " 

"  Does  not  wish  it,  either,"  interjected  Lanyan  with 
an  unpleasant  scowl,  "  but  that  matters  not ;  I  wish  it.'* 

"  But  I  do  not,  and  I  must  not  encourage  you.  I 
cannot  give  you  what  I  have  bestowed  upon  another." 
Her  face  flushed  and  then  resumed  its  pallid  expression. 

Mr.  Richard  Lanyan  was  silent,  but  his  facial  muscles 
twitched  with  emotion,  and  his  dark  eyes  gleamed  with 
hidden  fire. 

"  I  say  that  no  one  shall  take  you  from  me.  My 
father  nor  no  one  else  shall  stand  as  a  bar  in  the  way." 

"  I  stand  in  the  way,  myself.  My  own  heart  is  the 
strongest  bar." 

"  If  you  will  neither  listen  to  reason  or  affection,  there 
are  other  means,"  he  said,  threateningly. 

"  You  are  a  coward  and  a  miscreant,  sir,  to  use  such 
words  to  me." 

"  There  are  other  means  and " 

The  words  were  scarcely  uttered  when  she  was  seized 
from  the  rear  and  a  cloak  flung  o'er  her  head. 

"  The  coach.  Bob,"  said  Richard. 

"  'Tis  coming,  sir." 

There  was  the  rattle  of  wheels  and  a  coach  stopped 
near  them.  The  door  was  wrenched  open  and  as  he 
placed  her  within  he  finished  the  sentence,  "  There  are 
other  means,  and  he,  whoever  he  is,  will  never  get  you, 
except  over  the  dead  body  of  Richard  Lanyan." 


326  ANDE     TREMBATH 

The  deed  was  done  so  quickly  that  the  dazed  girl  had 
but  time  to  utter  a  muffled  shriek  as  the  door  slammed, 
and  her  subsequent  cries  were  drowned  by  the  rattling 
wheels  and  trotting  horses. 

Mr.  Richard  Lanyan,  angry  with  repeated  rejections, 
had  made  his  master  movement. 


CHAPTER    XXIX 

TOM     GLAZE     TO     THE     RESCUE 

"Oh,   here's   to   the   ale. 
The  merry  King  Ale, 
It  makes  one  jolly 
Though  home  comforts  fail; 
We'll  swing  and  we'll  sing. 
Merry  as  a  king. 
The  tankard  we  love 
For  the  joy  it'll  bring." 

Chorus. 

"  Then  swing  tankard  round 
With  ale  pale  or  brown. 
We'll  clunk  and  we'll  clunk 
Till  we  clunk  un  all  down! 
Down !    Down ! 

"  King  George,  rich  and  hale. 
Is  naught  to  King  Ale, 
He  reigns  and  cares  not 
For  the  poor  man's  wail. 
But  jolly  King  Ale 
Makes  sorrow  to  fail. 
Huzza  for  the  tankard 
Of  rud,  brown  or  pale." 

Loud  and  boisterous  came  the  roaring  voices  of  half- 
drunken  tipplers  from  behind  the  green  doors  of  an  ale- 
house in  the  upper  part  of  Falmouth.  At  the  close  of 
each  chorus  there  was  a  thumping  of  tankards  and  fists 

327 


328  ANDE     TREMBATH 

upon  the  tables  within  that  made  the  midnight  hour  a 
perfect  babel  of  sounds. 

"  That's  Tom  Puckinham's  voice,  I  could  swear  to 
un,"  said  a  tall,  well-built  man,  as  he  paused  on  the  pave- 
ment without.  He  was  talking  to  himself  and  evidently 
referred  to  one  voice  louder  than  the  others,  leading  the 
chorus.     A  frown  swept  over  his  rugged  features. 

"  Here  I  be  following  'im  all  the  evening  from  tavern 
to  tavern  and  just  missin'  'im  at  every  place,  and  he 
a-spending  his  'ard-eamed  money  in  drink  and  his  poor 
wife,  Susy,  at  home  a-crying  her  eyes  out.  If  it  wadn't 
that  I  had  promised  Susy  to  fetch  'im  home  I'd  wash  ray 
'ands  and  disown  'im." 

His  thoughts  were  interrupted  by  the  overturning  of 
a  table,  the  upsetting  of  chairs,  the  crash  of  falling 
tankards  and  voices  in  angry  altercation  within. 

The  stimulating  effect  of  the  ale  he  had  imbibed  had 
increased  Tommy's  natural  proclivity  to  wit  and  re- 
partee in  the  earlier  part  of  the  evening,  and  some  of 
his  shafts  of  ridicule  had  been  directed  at  two  young 
Scottish  Highlanders,  soldiers  of  Castle  Pendennis  on 
leave  of  absence.  The  petticoat  men,  as  he  had  called 
them,  had  remembered  him,  and  in  the  drinking  chorus 
they  took  umbrage  at  the  trifling  mentioning  of  King 
George's  name.  There  were  angry  words  and  then  the 
ringing  of  steel. 

The  sounds  stirred  the  man  without  to  action.  Push- 
ing aside  the  swinging  doors,  a  sight  met  his  vision  that 
tinged  his  spirit  with  righteous  indignation.  Chairs 
and  tables  were  overturned;  tankards  were  on  the  floor, 


TOM     GLAZE     TO     THE     RESCUE    329 

with  their  spilt  contents  trickling  away  in  sundry 
streams ;  Tommy's  friends  were  huddled  in  fear  in  one 
comer,  while  unfortunate  Tommy,  in  the  grasp  of  the 
two  half-intoxicated  Highlanders,  was  forced  to  his 
knees.  They  had  jerked  him  over  the  table  and,  with 
irate  mien  and  with  murder  in  their  bloodshot  eyes,  had 
their  sword  points  close  to  his  breast. 

With  a  quick  bound  and  a  blow  the  stranger  sent  the 
one  Highlander  reeling  to  the  floor,  and,  with  a  Cornish 
side-kick  on  the  ankle  and  a  blow  of  his  other  fist,  High- 
lander number  two  fell  with  a  crash  among  the  over- 
turned chairs  and  spilt  liquor. 

"  Ah!  ye  call  yourselves  sodjers  and  braave  men,  but 
thee'rt  bubble-'eaded  cowards  for  two  of  'ee  with  swords 
to  attack  one  unarmed  man !  Ah !  ye  drunken  buccas ! 
see  if  I  don't  report  'ee  to  your  governor." 

The  two  fallen  Highlanders  were  either  too  inebriated 
with  liquor,  or  dazed  by  the  sudden  attack,  or  dismayed 
by  the  threat  of  informing  the  governor  of  Pendennis 
Castle,  to  arise  at  once,  and  the  stranger,  casting  a  look 
of  supreme  contempt  on  them,  grasped  Tommy  by  the 
collar,  jerked  him  to  his  feet  and  led  him  from  the  place. 
As  they  were  going  he  could  not  but  hear  the  admiring 
comments  of  two  or  three  of  the  spectators. 

"  Ah !  Dear ! — Dear ! — Man  alive ! — Did  'ee  see  un  ? 
'Ow  he  knacked  the  sodjers  down!  'Tez  Tom  Glaze,  the 
Carnish  champion ! " 

"  The  Carnish  champion,  the  Carnish  champion," 
went  from  lip  to  lip.  The  green  doors  fell  to  behind 
Ql&ze  and  Puckinhajrij  and  cut  off  the  ipurmured  admir- 


330  ANDE     TREMBATH 

ation.  Glaze  hurried  his  nephew  down  one  street  and 
then  into  another  before  he  suffered  himself  to  speak 
the  anger  that  was  within  him.  Then  giving  Tommy 
a  great  shake  to  add  to  his  soberness  and  intelligence, 
he  began: 

"  I  tell  'ee,  Tommy,  thee*rt  a  great  chuckle-head  and 
will  wend  up  by  being  a  brocken  huddle  if  'ee  keeps  on 
like  this.  Here  I  come  to  see  my  nephew,  a  respectable 
pilchard  seller,  and  find  un  spending  his  time  and  money 
in  taverns.  Thee  ought  to  be  ashamed  of  thyself.  Do 
'ee  call  drinking  and  fighting  &  good  time?  Thee  wert 
singing  that  ale  would  make  'ee  hearty  and  merry  and 
that  sorrow  would  fail.  I  tell  'ee  that  ale  brings  trouble, 
and  poverty,  and  sickness  and  broken  health,  and  would 
'ave  caused  thy  funeral  if  I  'adn't  come  in  when  I  did, 
for  they  sodjers  had  blood  in  their  eyes.  And  thy  wife 
at  home  a-crying  her  eyes  out  and  without  money.  I 
tell  'ee  I  felt  more  like  giving  thee  a  skevem  than  I  did 
the  sodjers,  a  great  chuckle-head,  as  'ee  art." 

"  Ah,  Uncle  Tom,  doan't  'ee  go  on  like  that,"  said  the 
crestfallen  Tommy.  "  My  head  is  almost  mazed  with 
the  'eadache ;  les  go  down  to  the  kay  [quay]  and  see  if 
I  won't  feel  better." 

"  Hark  'ee,  Tom  Puckinharn,  let  this  be  the  last  of 
thy  drinking.     Will  'ee  promise?  " 

"  Umsh — ^Yes — I  promise." 

"  A  man  is  always  wuss  off  when  he  drinks.  His 
money  is  gone,  'is  time  is  gone,  and  'is  health  is  gone, 
and  he  winds  by  going  into  the  Union  Poor  House. 
Now   here   I   am, — I,   Tom   Glaze,    champion    Cornish 


TOM     GLAZE     TO     THE     RESCUE    331 

wrastler  and  all  round  fighter,  and  I  ne'er  would  be  so 
had  I  took  to  drink.  There  was  Jack  Trewlan,  cham- 
pion before  me,  stout  and  strong,  the  champion  of  a 
dozen  battles,  and  I  thrawed  'im  in  ten  minutes.  I  got 
an  under  holt  and  heaved  'im  over  my  shoulders,  and  'e 
went  down  like  a  bullock.  Cause  why.?  Cause  'e  took 
to  drink." 

'Ark ! "   said  Tommy.     "  Wasn't  that  a  woman's 


«  » 


cry 


?» 


They  listened  and  the  cry  was  repeated. 

"  'Urry  up,"  said  Glaze,  "  some  woman  in  distress, — 
upon  a  foach  if  thee  art  drunk,  'ee  can  run  a  bit." 

Away  they  went  in  the  direction  of  the  quay  from 
which  the  shriek  came.  Tommy's  uncle  ahead,  while  he 
himself  lurched  along  in  the  rear,  like  a  distressed  ship 
in  a  storm.  They  arrived  at  the  entrance  of  the  pier, 
and  saw  by  the  glimmering,  flickering  light  of  the  lamp, 
at  its  head,  a  woman  struggling  in  the  grasp  of  a  burly 
man.  A  coach  swept  by  them  at  this  moment  and 
passed  around  the  corner  and  up  market  street. 

"  Bring  her  along.  Bob,"  cried  a  voice  from  a  boat 
at  the  landing. 

Bully  Bob,  for  it  was  he,  seeing  the  approach  of  new- 
comers, redoubled  his  efforts,  when  he  received  a  blow 
that  staggered  him  and  he  released  his  grasp.  The 
woman  ran  screaming  to  her  rescuers  and  Glaze  placed 
himself  in  front  of  her.  Bully  Bob,  recovering  from 
the  sudden  assault,  rushed  in  wrath  at  his  aggressor, 
crying  fiercely,  "  I'll  eat  'ee  up !  " 

Glaze  grasped  him  with  a  quick,  deft  movement,  and 


SS2  ANDE    TREMBATH 

with  a  heave,  threw  him  over  his  shoulder  into  the  deep 
harbour  water  beyond.  There  was  a  cry  of  rage,  and 
then  a  splash,  and  then  the  sound  of  oars  in  a  long, 
steady  pull,  rounding  the  head  of  the  pier. 

"  The  fellow  in  the  boat  will  pick  un  up,  and  I  think 
they  won't  bother  us  nor  the  lady  for  the  present,"  said 
Glaze. 

"  Why,  'tes  Mistress  Alice  Vivian ! "  exclaimed 
Tommy  Puckinharn,  now  thoroughly  sobered.  She  had 
fainted  under  the  excitement  and  he  supported  her  with 
his  arms.  Glaze  gazed  at  the  countenance  of  the  un- 
conscious woman. 

"  'Zackly  so ;  so  it  is,"  and  he  paused  in  some  thought, 
and  then,  as  though  he  had  reached  some  conclusion, 
he  relieved  Tommy  of  his  burden,  and,  followed  by  his 
nephew,  he  strode  along  to  the  nearest  house,  a  small 
brown  cottage,  from  the  lower  window  of  which  gleamed 
a  light.  A  rap  on  the  door  brought  an  answer,  in  the 
shape  of  a  woman's  quavering  voice,  demanding  who 
was  there. 

"  It's  me,  Tom  Glaze,  Mrs.  Trembath."  There  was 
a  pause  within,  then  some  hurried  movement. 

"  Mrs.  Trembath,"  said  Tommy  to  his  uncle,  in  some 
surprise.  "  Is  that  Ande's  mother.?  How  did  she  get 
here,  and  how  did  'ee  know  she  lived  'ere.  Uncle  Tom  ?  " 

"  When  she  was  turned  out  by  the  Lanyans,  I  got  'er 
this  cottage,"  said  Glaze.  Further  conversation  was 
interrupted  by  the  rattling  of  bolts  within,  the  door 
was  opened,  and  the  gleam  of  candle  light  shot  over  all 
eoncernedf 


The  door  was  opened,  and  the  gleam  of  candle  light  shot 
over  all  concerned  " 


TOM     GLAZE     TO     THE     RESCUE    333 

Bearing  his  unconscious  burden,  Glaze,  followed  by 
his  nephew,  entered,  and  soon  related  his  tale. 

"Poor  girl!  Poor  dear!"  said  Mrs.  Trembath,  as 
she  chafed  Alice's  hands  and  then  essayed  to  pour  a  lit- 
tle reviving  cordial  down  her  throat.  The  cordial 
revived  her,  and  she  opened  her  eyes,  and  then,  in  as 
many  words  as  kind,  motherly  Mrs.  Trembath  would 
allow,  she  told  her  story. 

"  The  young  villain !  "  exclaimed  Glaze,  indignantly, 
as  he  heard  of  the  doings  of  Mr.  Richard.  "  I  wish  it 
was  'im  instead  of  Bob,  that  I  flung  into  the  harbour." 

"  Poor  child !  "  said  Mrs.  Trembath,  as  she  drew  the 
girl  to  herself.  "  The  ones  who  afflicted  you  and  de- 
frauded you  of  your  home,  did  the  same  to  me.  We  are 
in  similar  circumstances,  and  you  shall  stay  here  until 
you  feel  better." 

But  Mistress  Alice  was  far  from  soon  being  strong 
and  well  again.  The  long  period  of  nursing  her 
sick  father,  his  death,  the  loss  of  the  Manor,  and  the 
harrowing  experience  of  that  wild  night's  ride  to  Fal- 
mouth, were  too  much  for  her  worn  constitution,  and 
she  succumbed  to  brain  fever.  Throughout  the  long 
period  of  her  sickness  Mrs.  Trembath  would  have  been 
sorely  distressed  had  it  not  been  for  the  generosity  of 
Glaze  and  Puckinham.  Glaze,  as  a  friend  of  the  old 
squire,  having  received  his  patronage,  thought  he  was 
in  duty  bound  to  leave  a  sovereign  now  and  then  in  Mrs. 
Trembath's  hands,  and  his  nephew,  having  taken  the 
pledge,  found  he  had  many  spare  shillings  and  sixpences 
to  spend  in  so  good  a  cause. 


CHAPTER    XXX 

THE    major's    home-coming 

**ANDE,  son,  we'll  push  straight  on  to  the  village;  thy 
mother,  lad,  was  always  an  early  riser,  and  mayhap  will 
have  a  light  in  the  window,"  said  the  old  Major,  after 
they  had  eaten  a  light  breakfast  in  the  Angel  Inn. 
Major  Trembath  and  his  son,  Ande,  had  arrived  three 
o'clock  that  morning  at  the  Falmouth  Breakwater. 
They  had  hurriedly  left  the  ship  and  had  taken  the  early 
morning  stage  coach  for  Helston,  arriving  there  in  time 
for  an  early  breakfast. 

"  Shall  we  get  horses.?  "  asked  the  son. 

*'  Horses,  lad,  what  do  I  want  with  a  horse?  Have 
I  not  tramped  scores  of  miles  with  the  rifle  over  my 
shoulder,  when  I  was  a  solitary  hunter  at  the  Loop.  My 
limbs  are  as  strong  now  as  they  were  a  score  of  years 
ago,  and  I  doubt  much,  after  these  years  of  hunting 
and  tramping,  whether  I  would  feel  as  much  at  home  on 
horseback  as  I  would  on  my  own  feet.  Then  we  must  re- 
member, lad,  that  though  our  name  is  untarnished  and 
honourable,  we  are  still  poor,  and  it  behooves  us  to  be 
devotees  of  economy.  Horses,  no;  they  are  not  to  be 
thought  of." 

Ande  acquiesced,  and  forth  in  the  morning  twilight 
334 


THE     MAJOR'S    HOME-COMING     S55 

they  started.  What  a  happy  two-mile  walk  that  was! 
The  Major  related  tales  of  his  youth  associated  with 
the  section  through  which  they  wended  their  way,  and 
the  son  related  tales  as  well.  The  incident  of  the  duck 
cave  and  the  scared  Greggs  was  forcibly  brought  to 
mind  as  they  passed  the  cave,  and  he  told  the  story 
much  to  the  hearty  amusement  of  his  father. 

The  activity  of  youth  seemed  to  fill  the  frame  of  the 
old  Major  as  he  approached  the  proximity  of  the  village. 
His  steps  seemed  to  lengthen  and  increase  in  rapidity. 
Then  through  the  dim  twilight  the  outlines  of  the  vil- 
lage burst  upon  their  vision,  and  then  the  Major  strained 
his  keen  eyes  to  catch  the  first  view  of  the  Primrose  Cot- 
tage.   At  length  he  saw  it. 

"  It's  there  still,"  he  cried  joyously,  and  then  added, 
"  But  no  light.     Thy  mother  is  late  in  rising,  lad." 

They  followed  the  roadway  past  the  village  and  up 
the  ascent  to  the  cottage  home.  The  hedges  on  either 
side  of  the  little  domain  were  sadly  out  of  repair,  and 
the  Major  noticed  it. 

"  Things  gone  badly  since  I  was  in  these  parts,  but 
we  will  soon  have  them  on  a  better  footing." 

They  opened  the  rickety  gate  softly,  and  then  stole 
into  the  doorway.  Then  grasping  the  rapper,  the  Major 
lifted  it  and  rapped  hard  several  times.  Then  smilingly, 
with  dancing  expectant  eyes,  they  stood  back  and 
awaited.  What  a  joyful  greeting,  they  thought.  But 
there  was  no  answer,  nor  even  the  shadow  of  a  sound 
that  greeted  their  own  echoes. 

"  You  try,  Ande,  lad." 


336  ANDE     TREMBATH 

Ande  advanced  to  the  door  and  rapped,  but  the  same 
dcatli-like  silence  prevailed. 

"Something  wrong,"  said  the  old  Major.  "Ah! 
what's  that  writing.''  "  His  keen  eyes,  sharpened  by 
years  of  woodcraft,  had  caught  the  glimpse  of  a  paper 
tacked  to  the  upper  portion  of  the  door.  In  the  happy 
anticipation  of  coming  reunion  they  had  not  noticed 
it  before.  Ande  tore  it  from  its  fastenings  and  brought 
it  forth  more  closely  to  their  vision. 

"  For  rent, — James  Lanyan,"  slowly  read  Ande. 

*'  Some  cursed  doings  of  the  Lanyans,"  said  the  old 
man  weakly,  and  he  sat  down  on  the  steps,  for  in  his 
disappointment  his  strength  began  to  fail  him.  Just 
at  this  moment  a  lad  was  seen  passing,  and  Ande  accosted 
him. 

"  Mrs.  Trembath  ?  Why — her's  gone  nigh  two  years 
ago.  Sir  James  Lanyan  got  the  place  and  sold  her 
out." 

"  Where  did  she  go,  lad.? "  asked  the  Major,  faintly. 

"  No  one  knows  that,  sir." 

The  old  man  buried  his  face  in  his  hands.  His  spirit, 
so  cheery  a  short  time  before,  seemed  broken. 

"  Are  the  Vivians  still  here  ?  "  asked  Ande,  sharply, 
for  there  was  an  angry  passion  raging  within  him. 

*'  Old  squire  died  a  year  or  so  ago.  The  Lanyans  got 
the  Manor,  and  some  says  as  how  the  old  squire  died  of 
a  broken  heart,  sir." 

"  And  Mistress  Alice?  " 

"  Her*s  gone,  too ;  no  one  knows  where ;  the  Lanyans 
turned  'er  out." 


THE     MAJOR'S     HOME-COMING     337 

"The  black-hearted  villain!  Thief!  Rogue!" 
roared  Ande,  his  passion  bursting  forth  beyond  all 
bounds.  The  lad  fled  in  affright  at  the  dreadful  words 
and  the  black  countenance,  that  was  in  truth  diabolical 
with  rage.  The  old  Major  sought  to  calm  him,  but  of 
little  avail. 

"  For  all  that  the  Lanyans  have  done  to  me  and  mine, 
the  dishonourable  scandal  on  our  name,  the  suffer- 
ing and  humilation  it  has  caused  us,  and  these  last 
cruel  and  Inhuman  deeds,  I  will  be  terribly  revenged 
on  him  and  his !  "  Ande  Trembath  raised  his  hand  to 
heaven  and  continued  his  invective.  The  hatred  of  a 
lifetime  seemed  to  culminate  in  a  torrent  of  expressions 
like  these.     Then  there  was  silence. 

"  We'll  go  and  see  Parson  Trant  at  the  rectory, 
father,"  said  Ande,  and  the  old  Major,  seemingly  with 
no  resolution  of  his  own,  was  assisted  to  his  feet,  and  on 
they  trudged. 

The  glimmering  twilight  had  merged  into  dawn,  yet 
there  was  a  light  in  the  parson's  study  window  and  his 
head,  now  thoroughly  silvered,  could  be  seen  bending 
over  his  manuscript.  The  short  walk  seemed  to  revive 
the  Major's  spirits.     They  knocked  and  were  admitted. 

The  old  parson  knew  neither  of  them  for  a  moment. 
Then  Ande  spoke. 

"  What !  Parson  Trant,  and  do  you  not  remember  me, 
Ande  Trembath?  " 

"  Why,  Ande,  my  dear  lad !  This  is  a  surprise !  How 
you  have  grown!  Why,  lad,  where  have  you  been  all 
these  years?     And  this   is  your  friend?"     With   his 


338  ANDE     TREMBATH 

kindly,  fatherly  greeting,  he  shook  hands  warmly,  and 
then  turned  to  the  other  stranger. 

*'  More  than  friend,"  said  Ande. 

"  And  do  you  not  know  me  ?  "  smilingly  said  the  old 
Major,  as  he  advanced  with  outstretched  hands.  The 
rector  passed  his  hand  o'er  his  forehead  once  or  twice, 
as  he  scrutinised  the  stranger,  and  then, — 

"  What !  Impossible !  Yes — No — ^Yes,  it  must  be 
he.  ]My  old  friend  and  school-fellow,  Thomas  Trem- 
bath !  Well,  well,  well,  well !  "  and  the  old  parson  upset 
a  pile  of  books  in  his  eagerness  to  reach  the  Major. 
Tears  of  delight  were  in  his  eyes  as  he  flung  open  the 
study  door  and  called,  "  Harriet !  Harriet !  "  His  wife, 
a  pleasant  old  lady,  soon  came  in. 

"  Harriet,  do  you  know  these  two  gentlemen?  "  The 
genial  old  parson  was  smiling,  and  rubbing  his  hands  in 
dehght.  "  Ah,  I  thought  you  wouldn't.  This  is  our 
old  friend.  Major  Thomas  Trembath,  and  this  is  his 
son,  Ande." 

"  Goodness  me ! "  exclaimed  Harriet,  as  she  cordially 
welcomed  them,  and  entered  into  her.  husband's  pleasure. 

*'  And  now  come  in  and  have  a  cup  of  tea.  Breakfast 
is  about  ready  ?  "  said  the  parson  aside  to  his  wife,  in- 
quiringly, and  receiving  an  afiirmative  answer,  notwith- 
standing protests  that  they  had  already  breakfasted, 
the  Major  and  his  son  were  ushered  into  the  little  break- 
fast room,  where,  over  the  tea  table,  the  parson  related 
the  facts  of  Squire  Vivian's  sickness,  and  how  both 
Manor  and  cottage  had  passed  into  the  hands  of  the 
Lanyans.    He  mentioned  the  fatal  letter  that  had  caused 


THE     MAJOR'S     HOME-COMING     339 

the  squire's  death,  and  brought  it  forth,  and  mentioned 
both  the  disappearance  of  Mrs.  Trembath  and  Mistress 
Alice  Vivian.  If  ever  Ande  swore  revenge  in  his  heart 
it  was  during  that  narrative, in  which  all  the  brutal  plans 
of  Sir  James  Lanyan  were  revealed  in  a  plain,  unvar- 
nished manner.  Woe  betide  James  Lanyan  or  his,  if 
their  paths  crossed. 

"  I  am  glad  he  and  his  are  not  of  my  parish,"  said  the 
old  parson ;  "  but  now  tell  me  of  your  experience  and 
wandering." 

The  Major  briefly  narrated  his  wanderings,  to  which 
Ande  added  a  short  sketch  of  his  own,  with  the  excep- 
tion of  his  good  fortunes  in  the  gold  and  diamond 
regions  of  Brazil. 

"  Wonderful !  "  exclaimed  the  old  parson,  and  then  as 
a  sudden  thought  struck  him.  "  But  now  you  must  find 
Mrs.  Trembath,  and  I  would  suggest  that  you  would 
find  some  news  of  her,  no  doubt,  at  Helston,  for  this  is 
the  Floraday.  Ah!  there  are  the  bells  of  old  St. 
Michael,  now,  and  in  a  short  time  the  town  will  be 
crowded  with  people  from  far  and  near  to  keep  the  old 
festival.    You  will  get  news  of  her  from  some  one." 

*'  That  I  will,"  said  the  old  Major,  as  he  arose  from 
the  table.  "  That  I  will ;  and  if  I  fail  there,  I  shall 
search  through  every  town  of  Cornwall." 

The  parson  insisted  upon  their  going  in  his  own 
carriage,  but  the  very  thought  of  news  to  be  obtained 
in  Helston  made  the  old  Major  impatient  of  any  delay, 
and  he  persisted  in  going  on  foot,  and  so  with  a  friendly 
handshake,  Major  and  son  left  the  rectory  for  Helston. 


340  ANDE     TREMBATH 

"  Hark'ee,  son  Ande,  injustice  shall  fall  yet  and  right 
shall  prevail ;  I  feel  it,"  and  the  old  Major  strode  on  with 
renewed  hopefulness. 

Long  before  they  entered  the  town  it  had  put  on  Its 
holiday  attire.  Homes  were  decorated,  windows  gar- 
landed, doors  swung  wide  open,  and  the  bells  of  old  St. 
.  Michael  were  booming  and  pealing  in  the  festival  which 
the  abrasion  of  centuries  could  not  obliterate.  From  the 
upper  portion  of  the  town  came  the  pealing  of  fifes  and 
rattling  of  drums  and  the  drawling  voices  of  old  men 
mingled  with  the  more  melodious  voices  of  boys  and 
girls,  singing  the  ancient  Hal  Lan  Tow  chant.  Up 
in  front  of  the  Helston  Grammar  School  stand  the 
authorities  of  the  borough  demanding  a  holiday  in  be-^ 
half  of  the  pupils,  and  when  it  is  granted,  according  to 
custom,  how  the  lads  and  young  men  pour  out  of  the 
old  dormitory,  with  hats  tossing  in  the  air!  Vehicles, 
from  the  humble  cart  to  the  emblazoned  coach  of  the 
gentleman,  keep  rolling  into  town,  while  every  road  and 
footpath  is  dotted  with  foot  travellers.  The  streets 
begin  to  crowd  more  and  more.  Citizens  in  the  finest 
broadcloth  rubbed  elbows  with  the  humble  fustian  of 
farmers,  and  ladies  in  the  finest  brocades  and  silks  pass, 
with  kindly  greetings,  the  figures  of  country  maidens 
and  women  in  humbler  attire.  Lads  are  blowing 
whistles,  and  others  are  shouting  to  their  fellows.  But 
now  the  noon  hour  has  come,  and  from  the  head  of  Coin- 
age Hall  street  come  the  rolling  of  drums,  the  signal  for 
the  commencement  of  the  annual,  festival,  street  dance. 
In  front  of  the  forming  procession  are  the  two  town 


THE     MAJOR'S     HOME-COMING      341 

beadles  with  wands,  fancifully  and  artistically  garlanded 
with  jflowers.  The  wands  are  the  emblems  of  their 
authority.  They  are  the  great  men  of  the  hour.  Behind 
them  are  the  drummers,  the  fifers,  and  the  serpent 
players,  with  their  instruments  and  forms  so  festooned 
with  flowers  and  evergreen  that  it  is  almost  impossible 
to  see  their  features.  They  are  in  motion.  The  old 
beadles  prance  in  a  dignified  way  in  front  of  the  advanc- 
ing procession,  waving  their  wands  and  giving  direc- 
tions in  the  meantime.  The  music  of  the  various  instru- 
ments are  pealing  out  in  one  steady  strain,  punctuated 
here  and  there  with  the  sullen,  "  boom,  boom — boom — 
boom  "  of  the  big  drums,  and  the  "  rat  a-tat-tat "  and 
occasional  roll  of  the  kettle  drums.  Now  they  are 
dancing,  hand  in  hand  in  the  rear,  to  the  first  half  of 
the  melody.  Now  with  a  rattle  of  the  lesser  drums  the 
second  half  begins.  The  gentleman  with  the  second  lady 
releases  her  hand  and  seizes  the  first  and  whirls  her  out 
of  the  procession  in  a  circle  and  returns.  The  action 
is  continued  by  the  second  gentleman  and  so  on  down 
the  line.  Then  again  the  first  refrain  is  taken  up  and 
the  procession  moves  onward.  They  are  followed  by  a 
great  crowd  of  spectators.  Now  the  beadles  have  dis- 
appeared. They  have  but  entered  one  of  the  homes. 
The  procession  of  merrymakers  follow.  The  beadles 
emerge  from  another  door  and  on  goes  the  festival 
parade.  Is  that  customary.?  Oh,  yes.  It  is  one  of  the 
customs  of  time  immemorial,  and  the  party  owning  any 
of  the  homes  thus  entered  feels  highly  honoured. 
Through  all  the  streets  wends  the  dance  and  then  it  is 


342  ANDE     TREMBATH 

brought  to  a  close  by  a  turn  on  the  Bowling  Green. 
Now  follows  a  dance  of  the  tradespeople  in  one  of  the 
inns  of  the  town,  while  the  gentry  enter  the  renowned 
Angel  Inn  for  a  purpose  similar. 

A  porter  stands  at  the  door  of  the  hall  above  the 
Angel  Inn  to  solicit  sixpences  to  defray  expenses.  A 
dignified,  aged  man,  with  hair  and  beard  neatly  trimmed, 
passes  in  with  the  others.  He  is  followed  by  another, 
a  younger  one,  his  exact  counterpart  in  height  and 
facial  appearance.  Both  of  them  are  well  tanned  by 
exposure,  and  their  garments  seem  to  be*  of  foreign  make. 
They  are  the  old  Major  and  his  son,  Ande  Trembath. 

"  Bless  my  soul ! "  exclaims  a  rugged  old  fellow, 
stumping  up  with  a  slight  limp  in  one  limb.  He  stands 
in  front  of  Major  Trembath  and  stares  at  him;  then 
passes  a  hand,  rough  and  brown  and  heavy,  through  his 
grey  hair,  throwing  it  back  from  his  brow,  revealing 
a  long,  livid  scar  along  the  forehead. 

"  Bless  my  soul !  You  are  my  old  comrade,  Tommy 
Trembath,  or  my  eyesight  fails  me.     Is  it  not  so?" 

"  I  am  that  person,"  said  the  Major,  smiling,  and 
grasping  the  extended  hand  he  shook  it  warmly.  '*And 
how  is  my  Captain  Tom  Lanyan  ?  " 

"  I  am  right  well,  and  I  can't  say  how  glad  I  am  to 
see  my  old  comrade,  once  more,  back  in  England.  We 
all  thought  you  dead.  You  haven't  been  on  British 
soil  the  last  eighteen  years.  Where  have  ye  been  wan- 
dering all  this  time?  " 

The  Major  related  a  part  of  his  adventures  briefly. 

"  The  honour  of  our  family-  is  established,  Captain 


THE     MAJOR'S     HOME-COMING      343 

Tom ;  my  father  was  no  traitor  and  the  proof  of  it  is  in 
the  hands  of  the  government  authorities  at  this  time," 
concluded  the  Majjor. 

"  I  always  knew  it ;  I  always  knew  it,"  said  Captain 
Tom.  "  I  have  always  had  my  beliefs,  and  I'm  right 
glad  now  that  they  have  come  true." 

"  Aye,  I  know  it,"  said  the  Major.  "  You  were  always 
my  stoutest  friend,  in  the  camp  and  out." 

The  two  old  comrades  of  the  Napoleonic  wars  talked 
on  and  on,  while  Ande  wandered  from  them,  earnestly 
scanning  the  features  of  those  he  met,  but  none  did  he 
recognise.  The  violins,  sweeping  into  the  melody  of  the 
Floraday,  announced  that  the  dance  was  on,  but  he  did 
not  engage  in  it.  He  gazed  here  and  there,  vainly 
endeavouring  to  behold  a  face  he  loved.  He  was  becom- 
ing wearied  with  his  search,  when,  across  the  hall,  he 
noticed  an  aged,  veiled  lady  and  near  her  another,  much 
younger.  It  was  the  young  lady  that  held  him  spell- 
bound for  a  moment.  His  eyes  were  riveted  upon  her 
countenance  that  was  in  profile.  There  was  a  shoot- 
ing thrill  through  his  whole  system  and  his  blood 
seemed  to  be  mounting  in  great  billows  to  his  head.  He 
caught  a  fuller  glimpse  of  her  features,  and  then  his 
heart  gave  one  mad  leap  and  apparently  stood  still  for 
a  moment.  Could  he  ever  forget  that  countenance,  pale 
and  yet  beautiful  as  on  the  eve,  in  the  long  ago,  when 
she  had  called  him  her  knight.  With  a  half  cry  he  was 
up  and  pushing  through  the  crowd,  but,  before  he 
reached  the  other  side,  he  saw  them  both  pass  out  of 
the  crowded  ballroom.     With  a  few,  rapid  steps  and 


344f  ANDE     TREMBATH 

bounds  he  passed  down  the  stairway,  almost  knocking 
over  the  porter  at  the  door. 

In  the  street  without  he  missed  the  familiar  figure, 
then  his  heart  beat  joyfully  once  more,  for  he  caught 
a  glimpse  of  her  entering  the  Bowling  Green.  The 
aged,  veiled  lady  was  not  with  her.  He  hastened  down 
the  crowded  street  and  entered  the  comparatively  de- 
serted Bowling  Green.  He  swept  a  rapid  glance  around, 
but  she  had  disappeared  and  his  heart  sank  once  more. 
Then  he  saw  a  flutter  of  lace  amidst  the  leaves  of  a 
retired  garden  seat.  She  was  standing  when  he  reached 
her,  but  perhaps  the  record  of  his  diary  is  better  descrip- 
tive of  the  scene  that  followed. 

DIARY  OF  ANDREW  TREMBATH,  Gent. 

May  8th,  1829;  Afternoon. 
I  saw  my  lady  in  the  garden  seat  arbour,  my  lady  Alice,  the 
love  of  my  childhood,  the  ideal  of  my  waking  hours,  the  vision 
of  my  wanderings,  and  the  dream  of  my  slumbers.  She  whose 
features  were  engraven  on  my  heart  by  the  memory  of  other 
years,  and  around  whom  clustered  the  fondest  recollections  of 
youth,  was  standing  gazing  at  the  setting  sun  that,  as  it  sank  in 
golden  and  roseate  hues,  painting  the  sea  and  sky  with  the 
glories  of  heaven,  seemed  likewise  to  retouch,  with  its  refulgent 
beams,  her  curling  raven  locks  and  beauteous  eyes  with  addi- 
tional splendour.  There  was  a  faint  flush  on  her  cheeks  in  the 
midst  of  their  pallor,  like  an  early  wild-rose  nestling  by  a  belated 
snowdrift.  It  seemed  to  me  that  she  was  much  taller  than 
formerly.  So  tall  and  majestic  indeed  was  she  that  I  was  awed, 
notwithstanding  my  love  that  had  been  slumbering  for  years.  I 
heard  her  murmur,  meditatively: 

"Ah,  if  he  would  only  come, — my  life,  my  hope!" 
My  heart  smote  me  with  despair  and  an  icy  coldness  seized 
me;  a  lump  arose  in  my  throat  that  seemed  to  choke  my  breath" 


THE     MAJOR'S    HOME-COMING     345 

ing.  My  hopes  seemed  dashed  to  the  ground,  my  idol  shattered 
and  a  mass  of  chaotic  ruin.  I  tried  to  withdraw,  but  had 
advanced  too  far,  for  she  saw  me  and  there  was  a  slight  addi- 
tional flush  on  her  countenance,  and  gentle  recognition  in  her 
eyes.  I  advanced  to  the  shadow  of  the  arbour  and  bowed  low, 
humbled  with  my  previous  thought,  yet  persistent  and  determined 
to  know  the  truth  once  and  for  all. 

"  Mistress  Alice  Vivian, — Mistress  Alice,  I  am  Andrew  Trem- 
bath,  who  has  loved  you  all  these  years.  You  called  me  your 
knight  once  and  gave  me  reason  to  hope  that  you  were  not  indif- 
ferent to  my  feelings  for  you.  But  there  was  a  bar,  sinister 
and  heavy,  between  us, — the  stain  of  treason  against  our  name. 
Now  all  bars  have  been  removed;  our  name  is  honourable;  no 
wealth  is  a  hindrance.  You  have  been  my  dream  throughout  my 
boyhood  days  and  the  star  of  my  wanderings  in  more  mature 
years,  and  I  lay  my  hand  and  heart  at  your  feet." 

She  answered  not,  and  I  feared  to  lift  my  eyes  lest  I  should 
read  what  I  half  suspected  from  that  brief,  murmured  exclama- 
tion I  had  heard,  that  there  was  another.  Despair  seized  me  at 
her  continued  silence. 

"  You  were  expecting  some  one  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  she  said,  meditatively. 

"  And  you  love  him, — him  ?  "  How  bold  was  that  question ! 
I  know  not  now  whether  I  feared  more  her  rebuke  or  the  proof 
of  my  agonizing  doubt. 

"  Yes,"  she  said  gently,  and  I  thought  pityingly. 

I  arose,  staggered,  and  would  have  fallen  but  for  the  friendly 
support  of  a  tree.  Better  to  have  perished  with  brave  Dick  in 
the  floods  of  the  Rough  Water  than  to  have  my  love  thus 
wrenched  from  my  heart  and  my  cherished  longing  prove  a  vain 
delusion.  I  recollect  the  substance  of  my  rambling,  half  incoherent 
apology  for  disturbing  her.  Oh!  How  empty  heart,  earth,  life 
appeared  then!  The  sun  had  gone  down,  and  with  it  the  sun  of 
happiness  for  me!    I  turned  to  go. 

"  Ande,— Mr.  Trembath." 

There  was  something  commanding  in  that  tone  that  I  could 
not  resist.     I  paused  and  waited  for  her  to  continue. 

"  Is  it  not  unseemly  for  old  friends  to  part  thus.  Here, 
scat  yourself  with  me  in  this  arbour."     I  moodily  did  so.     "  I 


346  ANDE     TREMBATH 

cannot  say  how  glad  I  am  to  greet  once  more  a  friend  of  my 
childhood  days.  You  have  been  a  true  friend  to  me."  What  a 
bitter  mockery  those  words  seemed  to  me.  I  was  silent  and  she 
continued :  "  You  have  been  a  true  friend  and  I  cannot  choose 
but  to  speak  plainly.     But  tell  me  of  your  life  and  wanderings." 

Little  by  little  I  told  my  story,  but  I  could  not  refrain 
from  my  love  for  her,  for  one  was  so  involved  with  the  other 
that  they  could  not  be  sundered.  I  told  all  with  the  excep- 
tion of  my  fortune  in  the  Brazilian  mines.  She  seemed  in- 
terested with  the  interest  of  a  friend.  I  gazed  at  her  after  my 
tale  was  finished,  and  with  the  melancholy  thought  of  what  I 
had  aspired  to  and  what  I  had  lost.  She  smiled,  and  I  thought 
she  was  laughing  at  my  presumption  in  laying  my  poor  aflfec- 
tions  at  her  feet.     It  enraged  me,  and  I  arose  to  go. 

"  One  moment,"  she  said ;  "  I  have  news  for  you ;  your  mother 
is  found  and  your  father  is  with  her,  but  I  have  other  matters 
to  mention." 

This  was  the  solitary  joy  that  now  filled  me  afid  life  seemed 
brighter. 

"  I  was  expecting  some  one  this  evening." 

"Yes,"  I  said,  the  clouds  again  coming  over  my  soul;  "yes, 
I  know." 

"  No,  you  do  not  know ;  I  was  expecting  some  one,  and,  as  you 
rightly  surmised,  I  love  him." 

"  Aye,"  I  murmured,  for  she  seemed  cruel,  "  and  you  could 
not  love  another  ?  " 

"  No,  no,  I  could  not  love  another.  You  would  not  desire 
to  see  me  unhappy  and  poor?  " 

"  No,"  I  said,  doggedly,  digging  with  my  heel  in  the  turf. 

"  Suppose  I  had  the  opportunity  to  marry,"  she  said,  mis- 
chievously, and  with  a  merry  light  scintillating  in  her  eyes,  "  to 
marry  one  who  would  give  me  wealth,  happiness,  love,  and  my  old 
home,  who  took  me  on  a  long  ride  of  twenty  miles  and  told  me 
of  these  things,  would  you  say,  '  No.' " 

"  No,"  I  said,  sadly,  "  marry  where  your  heart  directs  you." 

"  But  suppose  he  was  Mr.  Richard  Lanyan?  " 

I  bounded  to  my  feet  as  if  shot.  Oh,  what  a  demoniacal  thing 
is  hatred !  Humbled  and  sad  at  the  loss  of  her,  the  thought  of 
one  of  that  accursed  race  possessing  her  seemed  like  turning  my 


THE     MAJOR'S     HOME-COMING      347 

blood  from  freezing  coldness  to  boiling  heat.  My  countenance 
must  have  been  frightful;  it  terrified  her.  I  could  not  speak. 
She  trembled  and  drew  away  from  me  and  hastily  said,  "  But 
suppose  I  did  not  love  him?"  I  was  dumbfounded,  and  she  con- 
tinued, earnestly,  while  her  eyes  beamed  with  a  new  light. 

"  Suppose  I  did  not  love  him  ?  I  was  expecting  him  whom 
I  loved — yes,  loved  from  girlhood;  I  mourned  him  as  dead,  yet 
loved  him  more  and  more,  and  after  many  years  I  saw  him  at  a 
Floraday  in  the  Angel  Inn  ballroom.  I  saw  him  push  through 
the  crowd  and  I  came  here  expecting  him.  I  love  him  and  could 
not  love  another, — and — and — and — Oh — Ande, — can't  you  see  ?  " 

Change  darkness  into  sunlight  and  my  feelings  can  be  ex- 
pressed. The  full  light  of  all  seemed  to  burst  upon  my  vision 
and  dazed  me;  then  as  I  saw  more  clearly,  I  recollect  her  stretch- 
ing her  arms  toward  me,  and  my  leaping  forward  to  clasp  that 
wavering  form. 

Here  the  incident  in  the  diary  closes,  and  it  re- 
mained for  others  to  relate  what  happened  afterward. 
They  sat  down  again  in  the  arbour  and  her  head  was  on 
his  shoulder. 

"  And  you  did  love  me,  after  all,"  said  Ande,  and  the 
old,  happy,  boyish  smile  illuminated  his  features. 

"  I  have  always  loved  you  from  that  moment  at  the 
gate  of  the  Primrose  Cottage,  so  many  years  ago.  For- 
give me  for  the  doubt  I  put  you  in,  but  you  looked  so 
doleful  at  my  first  words  that  I  could  not  resist  the  old 
mischievous  spirit." 

He  leaned  down  and  kissed  her  lips,  and  there  was  a 
long  silence,  unbroken  save  by  the  chirping  birds  and 
rustling  leaves.  A  short  time  afterward  thither  came 
the  veiled,  elderly  lady,  accompanied  by  the  Major. 

"Alice,  child,  art  here.'^  I  have  found  him,  Major 
Trembath,  my  husband." 


348  ANDE     TREMBATH 

"  Mother !  "  joyfully  cried  the  young  man,  as  he  flung 
himself  into  her  arms. 

"  How  tall  you  are,  son  Ande,"  said  his  mother,  after 
their  first  affectionate  greeting ;  "  yes,  as  tall  as  your 
father,  and  " — here  she  turned  her  gaze  upon  Alice — 
"  you  have  found  a  sister  along  with  myself." 

"  No,  not  sister,  but  my  affianced  wife,"  said  Ande, 
proudly. 

"  And  I  can  call  you  daughter  in  reality,"  said  happy 
Mrs.  Trembath,  as  she  kissed  her  affectionately. 

But  now  the  Bowling  Green  became  crowded  with 
people.  The  ball  was  over.  Gentlemen  and  trades- 
people mingled  in  the  sight-seeing  of  the  great  event 
of  that  memorable  day — the  wrestling.  A  space  had 
been  cleared  and  roped  off  in  the  centre  of  the  Bowling 
Green,  and  soon  forth  came  the  gladiators,  great,  tall, 
muscular  fellows,  farmers  from  the  country,  miners  from 
the  tin  mines,  and  seamen  from  Penzance  and  the  Lizard 
Point.  The  men  from  the  Lizard  were  great,  giant-like 
men  over  six  feet  in  stature.  The  spectators  watched 
with  intense  interest.  Jack  Trewlan,  anxious  once  more 
for  honours,  was  among  them,  but  went  down  and  out 
of  the  lists  in  the  very  first  contest.  The  poorest  wres- 
tlers were  disposed  of  first,  and  then  came  men  of  the 
first  class.  Among  the  latter  was  a  great  Lizard  Point 
fellow, — a  veritable  Goliath  in  size.  Six  feet,  six  inches 
he  stood  in  his  stocking  feet  and  weighed  fully  two  and 
twenty  stone.  The  measurement  of  his  chest  was 
fifty-three  inches,  of  his  waist  thirty-nine,  of  his 
arms — ^the   right  biceps — nineteen   inches,   the  left — a 


THE     MAJOR'S    HOME-GOMING     349 

trifle  less;  his  limbs  were  in  proportion  to  his  other 
measurements.  A  wild  cheer  went  up  from  the  Lizard 
men  as  he  stood  forth  in  the  roped  arena.  He  had 
easily  vanquished  all  his  fellows, — the  great  Lizard  fel- 
lows were  as  wooden  men  in  his  powerful  grasp, — and  he 
was  entitled  to  do  battle  with  the  champion. 

There  was  another  cheer,  mainly  from  the  tin  miners 
and  farmers,  as  the  champion  of  Cornwall,  Tom  Glaze, 
the  victor  of  nineteen  pitched  battles,  came  forth  to  do 
battle  for  the  twentieth  time  for  the  position  he  held. 
The  champion  was  not  near  so  tall  or  heavy  as  his  op- 
ponent, but  he  was  stoutly  and  toughly  built;  his 
muscles  were  iron-like  with  constant  practice,  and  in  his 
many  battles  he  had  gained  that  dexterity,  cautious- 
ness, tack  and  trickiness,  that  was  characteristic  and 
essential  to  a  champion. 

"  A  tough  opponent,  Tom,"  said  one  of  the  gentle- 
men. 

"  The  bigger  they  are  the  heavier  they  fall,"  said 
Tom,  and  yet  there  was  a  little  doubt  in  his  mind  as  he 
sized  up  the  Goliath  before  him.  A  moment  they  stood, 
their  white  duck  wrestling  jackets  in  relief  against  the 
background,  and  then  they  closed  into  action.  The 
young  Lizard  fellow  was  cautious  and  wary.  Tom 
Glaze  seized  his  favourite  hold, — the  celebrated  Cornish 
hug,  and  back  and  forth  they  wavered,  but  the  young 
Colossus  seemed  to  have  his  great  limbs,  like  pillars, 
firmly  rooted  in  the  ground.  Glaze  was  as  agile  as  a 
panther,  twisting  and  trying  trick  after  trick.  Once 
he  nearly  had  him  on  the  hip  and  a  hoarse  "  Huzza  " 


350  ANDE     TREMBATH 

and  "  Bravo  "  went  up  from  many  throats, — but  it  was 
only  a  partial  success.  The  young  Lizard  fellow  now 
tried  to  bring  into  play  his  great  strength,  but  every 
grasp  was  eluded.  Glaze  had  not  been  champion  so 
long  without  learning  many  things. 

"  At  un,  Tom,  thraw  un  down  I "  cried  the  men  of 
Helston  and  the  miners  to  their  champion. 

"  At  un,  lad,  heave  un  over  thy  'ead ! "  exclaimed  the 
Lizard  and  Penzance  men  to  their  partisan. 

"  Wait  a  bit,"  said  a  Lizard  man,  with  a  knowing 
wink  to  a  companion,  "  wait  a  bit,  till  'e  uses  'is  strength ; 
our  man  is  only  playing  with  un,  I  tell'ee." 

"  Ah,  dear,  dear, — us  thought  Glaze  'ad  un  then ;  but 
Vs  up  again." 

"  Bravo !  Bravo !  "  shouted  the  men  of  Penzance  and 
the  Lizard,  and  they  fairly  danced  with  delight,  as 
Glaze  went  partially  down. 

"  No  fall !  "  bawled  the  referee. 

"  Ah  was  a  fall,  sure  enough ! "  shouted  an  excited 
Lizard  fellow ;  "  I  seed  un." 

"  Seed  un,"  snorted  Tommy  Puckinharn,  who  was 
near  at  hand ;  "  thee  doesn't  mean  to  say  thee  seed  un 
with  they  great,  fishy  eyes  of  thine,  do  'ee.''  " 

"  Ah  was  a  fall,"  persisted  the  Lizard  man. 

« 'Twasn't,"  said  Tommy. 

"  Ah  was." 

"  What's  the  use  of  saying  ah  was  when  ah  wasn't," 
said  Tommy,  philosophically. 

"  'Ere,  'ere,  no  fighting,"  said  a  town  beadle,  as  he 
came  up  to  preserve  peace. 


THE     MAJOR'S     HOME-COMING     351 

The  wrestlers  after  a  brief  rest  again  approached 
each  other.  Now  in  a  crouching  position  they  circle 
around  each  other,  each  waiting  for  an  opportunity  for 
a  good  hold.  Suddenly  they  spring  forward  like  tigers. 
It  was  a  collar  and  elbow  hold;  they  tugged,  strained, 
now  pushing,  now  pulling.  Determination  is  on  the 
features  of  each.  It  is  apparent  that  the  young  giant 
is  exerting  his  strength  to  the  utmost.  He  is  slowly 
pushing  Glaze  backward.  Glaze  gave  way  slowly  and 
then  with  a  smile  and  a  twist  and  a  sudden  jerk — 

"  Huzza !  Huzza !  Glaze  forever !  "  bellowed  the 
Helston  men.  The  young  Lizard  giant  had  gone,  like 
a  crashing  oak,  to  the  ground. 

"  No  fall,"  bawled  the  referee.  The  Lizard  gladia- 
tor had  but  fallen  to  his  knees  and  was  soon  up  again, 
and  the  contest  was  renewed. 

"  Man  alive !  Did  'ee  see  un .''  'E  went  down  like  a 
kibbel  in  a  shaft,"  said  one  tin  miner  to  another.  The 
one  addressed  answered  not,  but  kept  shouting  to  Glaze : 

"  The  Camish  ankle  kick,  boy !  Kick  un  in  the  ankle, 
and  poke  un  over ! " 

"  Another  case  of  Corineus  and  the  giant  Gog-ma- 
gog,"  ^  said  Captain  Tom  Lanyan  to  his  friend,  the 
Major. 

"  Aye,  possibly,"  said  the  Major. 

On  went  the  wrestling  match,  with  the  advantage  at 
one  moment  to  Glaze,  at  another  to  the  young  opponent. 
Glaze  seemed  the  better  in  agility  and  wrestling  tricks, 

^  Wrestling  match  of  Corineus,  the  Troj  an,  and  Gogmagog  on 
Plymouth  Hoe.— "  Polyolbion,"  Michael  Drayton,  1563-1631. 


352  ANDE    TREMBATH 

but  his  skill  in  these  things  were  offset  by  the  giant's 
strength  and  wariness.  The  crowd  from  a  wildly  shout- 
ing mass  became  silent,  and  were  alertly  watching  every 
movement'  of  the  straining  figures.  They  were  at  last 
becoming  aware  of  what  Glaze  knew  for  quite  a  time. 
The  champion  had  met  his  match.  He  knew  it,  for  with 
all  of  his  skill  he  was  unable  to  overcome  his  opponent. 
But  what  was  still  more  manifest  was  that  the  young 
Lizard  giant,  with  all  of  his  strength,  could  not  con- 
quer the  old,  wrestling  hero. 

The  time  was  up  at  last,  and  there  were  stout  huzzas 
for  both  as  they  shook  hands.  The  decision  went  to 
Glazie,  not  on  falls,  but  on  points,  as  he  showed  the 
greater  skill. 

Then  Glaze  held  up  his  hand  for  silence  and  began  to 
speak. 

"  I  want  to  congratulate  my  opponent  on  his  stout 
defence,  and  say  'e's  the  hardest  man  I  ever  met  in  a 
wrastling  match." 

Th^e  was  a  roar  of  cheers,  and  then  when  silence 
came,  he  continued: 

"  Men,  you  knaw  the  decision  is  just  as  to  points. 
My  opponent  could  not  thraw  me,  as  'ee  have  seen,  and 
I  couldn't  thraw  'im.  Now,  I'm  getting  old  for  the 
ring,  and  am  about  going  to  quit  wrastling.  This  is 
my  last  battle.  I  'ave  only  waited  until  I  could  find  the 
man  I  couldn't  thraw,  and  now  I've  found  un,  I  give  to 
him  the  championship  and  all  the  honours  of  the  position. 
What  do  'ee  say?     Is  it  right?  " 

There  was  silence  for  a  moment,  and  then,  after  the 


THE     MAJOR'S     HOME-COMING     353 

import  of  Glaze's  generous  offer  became  more  fully  un- 
derstood, there  was  a  resounding  cheer  that  went  up 
again  and  again.  The  people  knew  that,  next  to  Glaze, 
there  was  none  more  capable  or  worthy  of  defending  the 
championship  of  Cornwall  than  the  young  Lizard  giant. 

"  Do  ye  know,  lad,  who  the  young  Lizard  chap  was  ?  " 
asked  the  Major  of  Ande, — but  Ande  was  gone.  Both 
wrestlers  had  been  taken  up  on  the  shoulders  of  the 
crowd  and  carried,  with  various  shoutings,  to  the  Angel 
Inn.  Ande  followed,  pushing  and  shoving  his  way 
through  the  crowd.  When  he  entered  the  Inn,  he 
shouted,  "  Where's  the  champion  ?  " 

"  He's  up  in  his  room,  changing  his  clothes,"  said  the 
landlord. 

Ande  pushed  his  way  up  the  stairs  and  opened  the 
door  of  the  room  indicated. 

"Dick,  Dick,  Dick,  old  fellow!" 

"  Ande, — ^why  bless " 

The  two  friends  were  locked  in  each  others  arms. 
Then  came  a  time  of  explanation.  Dick  had  passed 
through  the  Rough  Waters  of  the  Lycamahonings 
safely.  He  who  had  breasted  the  breakers  of  the  Lizard 
could  easily  take  care  of  himself  in  the  rapids.  He  was 
wounded,  to  be  sure,  and  the  struggle  through  the  rapids 
had  exhausted  him,  but  he  was  picked  up  in  the  river 
and  for  some  time  was  in  the  care  of  the  good  settlers 
of  Kittanning ;  then  he  had  returned. 

**  You  must  come  back  with  me  to  see  my  father  and 
mother  and  my  intended  wife,"  said  Ande.  Ande  in- 
sisted, and  Dick  yielded.     They  passed  out  through  the 


364  ANDE    TBEMBATH 

Inu  and  down  to  the  Bowling  Green.  There  were 
Major  Trembath,  Mrs.  Trembath  and  Mistress  Alice 
Vivian,  to  each  of  whom  Dick  was  successively  intro- 
duced. 

"  What's  wrong,  Dick  ?  "  asked  Ande.  Dick  was 
staring  with  all  his  eyes  at  the  Major,  and  then  he  burst 
forth  in  answer: 

"  Why,  bless  me,  Ande,  if  the  Major  and  old  Hunter 
Tom  are  not  the  same,  they  are  brothers." 

"  The  same,  Dick,  lad,"  said  the  Major,  smilingly, 
and  Dick  again  grasped  his  hand  and  shook  it  warmly. 

"  I  never  expected  to  see  you  and  Ande  again,  and  I 
can't  say  how  glad  I  am  that  things  have  turned  out  as 
they  have,"  said  Dick. 

He  explained  how  he  had  returned  to  his  people,  who 
had  long  mourned  him  as  dead,  and  how  overjoyed  they 
were  to  see  him.  He  was  now  a  prosperous,  independent 
farmer  of  the  Lizard,  and  was  also  preparing  to  enter 
the  shipbuilding  trade.  "  Thanks  be,"  said  he,  in  an 
undertone  to  Ande,  "  to  the  mines  of  Sierro  Do  Frio." 


CHAPTER  XXXI 


ANBE  S     REVENGE 


"  A  grudge,  time  out  of  mind  begun, 

And  mutually  bequeathed  from  sire  to  son." 

—Tatian. 

**LiANYAN  forever!  Lanyan  forever!" 
"  Trembath  forever !  Trembath  forever !  " 
The  old  town  of  Helston  was  a  roaring,  gesticulating 
mass,  and  the  shouting  of  bellowing  partisans  reverber- 
ated up  and  down  Coinage  Hall  Street.  Crowd  met 
crowd,  waving  their  respective  banners,  opprobious 
names  were  shouted,  fists  flung  in  the  air,  and  a  special 
force  of  officers  were  busy  from  early  morn  quieting  un- 
ruly fellows,  some  of  them  more  stirred  by  the  spirits  of 
the  Angel  Inn  than  the  spirits  of  politics.  It  was  the 
period  of  the  election  for  the  Reform  Parliament.  Sir 
James  Lanyan  had  come  forth  on  the  old  party  plat- 
form, and,  most  unexpectedly,  in  opposition  to  him, 
came  Andrew  Trembath.  The  latter  had  made  himself 
eligible  by  the  purchase  of  the  Primrose  Cottage,  thus 
making  himself  a  landholder  of  forty  shillings  annual 
value. 

Towards  noon  the  crowds  converged  upon  the  Bowling 
Green,  where  upon  a  raised  platform  sat  the  Mayor,  the 
town  functionaries,  the  candidates,  and  their  proposers 
and  seconds. 

355 


856  ANDE    TREMBATH 

The  figure  of  Sir  James  was  just  as  tall  as  of  old ;  the 
same  eagle  nose  and  piercing  eyes ;  the  same  easy,  urbane 
manner  and  distinguished  appearance.  The  Conserva- 
tives admired  him.  His  wealth,  astuteness,  experience, 
all  urged  the  necessity  of  his  return  to  the  forum  of 
government.  There  was  an  easiness  of  manner  in  the 
very  position  Sir  James  occupied  that  augured  well  his 
own  hopes  of  the  coming  election.  Why  should  he  not 
have  hopes.'*  The  interests  of  the  landed  party  were 
all  back  of  him.  The  Godolphins  and  all  their  followers 
were  in  his  train.  Reform  measures  were  dangerous 
in  their  eyes  to  the  staid  health,  political,  of  the 
country. 

On  the  left,  Andrew  Trembath  was  not  so  easy  in  his 
mind.  Sir  James  was  an  old  general,  and  he  knew  it; 
but  within  Ande's  breast  was  the  buoyant  hopes  of 
youth.  Here  was  the  first  stroke  of  revenge  against  an 
ancient  foe.  Could  Sir  James  be  beaten  in  his  cherished 
hopes,  and  that  by  an  upstart  of  a  hated  family,  the 
more  triumph. 

The  preliminary  proceedings  were  gone  through 
rapidly.  Sir  James,  with  a  good  bit  of  wisdom,  had 
selected  as  his  proposer  a  retired  country  gentleman 
qnd  as  his  second  a  tradesman  of  Helston,  thus  drawing 
from  the  sympathy  of  both  classes.  The  proposer, 
however,  weakened  his  cause  by  his  interlarding  his 
speech  with  many  classic  quotations,  learned  no  doubt 
when  he  was  a  lad  at  Eton,  and  also  by  a  most  unfortu- 
nate mentioning  of  the  stain  of  treason  on  the  name  of 
the  opposing  candidate.     Sir  James,  himself,   though 


ANDE'S     REVENGE  357 

he  S3mipathlsed  with  his  proposer,  felt  irritated  that  he 
should  make  such  a  blunder,  and  a  slight  frown  passed 
over  his  placid  features. 

The  proposer  of  Andrew  Trembath  was  none  other 
than  the  Reverend  Mr.  Trewan,  headmaster  of  the 
Grammar  School.  In  a  short,  neat  speech,  and  with  a 
few,  withering  remarks,  he  scattered  the  arguments  of 
the  proposer's  speech  in  favour  of  Sir  James.  Then 
speaking  of  his  candidate,  Andrew  Trembath,  he  re- 
ferred to  his  being  a  scholar  of  his  own  school,  his  hon- 
esty, uprightness,  and  his  grasp  upon  the  problems  that 
were  stirring  old  England  to  her  very  centre,  and  closed 
with  an  able  plea  for  the  seating  of  ability,  though  that 
ability  was  young.  There  were  strong  cheers  and  many 
"  hears !  "  from  the  crowd  on  its  conclusion.  But  none 
of  these  preliminary  cheers  were  so  hearty  as  those  which 
greeted  the  second,  as  he  arose  to  greet  the  audience. 
And  no  wonder,  for  the  seconder  of  Mr.  Trewan's 
speech  was  the  new  champion  of  Cornwall,  Dick  Thomas. 
Sir  James  looked  a  trifle  worried,  for  he  saw  the  diplo- 
macy in  the  choice  of  these.  The  headmaster  of  the 
Grammar  School  had  weight,  and  Dick  Thomas  had  the 
hearts  of  the  commonality.  The  speech  which  he  made 
was  homely  enough,  and  demonstrated  that  he  was,  as  he 
said,  more  a  man  of  action  than  one  of  words.  But  he 
was  Dick  Thomas,  and  Dick  Thomas  was  a  host. 

Sir  James  arose  with  a  look  of  relief  on  his  features. 
He  was  a  man  accustomed  to  deal  with  the  masses,  and 
wished  to  offset,  as  much  as  possible,  the  blunders  of  his 
own  proposer  and  the  enthusiasm  of  the  crowd  over  the 


358  ANDE     TREMBATH 

speeches  of  the  opposition.  His  speech  was  replete 
with  smooth  phrases,  and  the  whole  was  conducted  to 
the  close  with  the  arguments  of  a  logician  and  the  sub- 
tility  of  an  old  parliamentarian.  He  demonstrated 
that  he  had  a  clear  grasp  on  the  problems  of  the  day, 
and  the  temper  of  the  people  toward  them,  but  what  he 
did  not  know  was  the  growing  popular  estimation  of 
himself  among  the  masses.  They  were  getting  to  real- 
ise that  Sir  James  Lanyan  was  a  "  trimmer  "  and  was 
more  for  Sir  James  Lanyan  than  anything  else.  He 
said  in  part: 

"  For  upwards  of  a  dozen  years  I  have  served  the  peo- 
ple of  this  section  as  their  representative  in  the  House 
of  Commons,  and  I  tru^  that,  at  this  time,  the  confidence 
of  the  electors,  that  they  have  manifested  so  often  here- 
tofore in  my  experience  and  labours,  will  still  remain  with 
me.  [Hisses  and  groans.]  These  are  stirring  times 
and  the  storms  have  swept  over,  again  and  again,  the 
ship  of  state,  threatening  to  founder  her,  and  reduce 
the  civilisation  of  the  grandest  and  most  enlightened 
country  under  the  sun  to  a  melancholy  wreck  and  ruin, 
battered  and  beaten  by  every  sea,  and  a  prey  of  the 
pirates  of  Europe.  To  a  careful  observer,  what  perils 
threaten  our  country?  The  spirit  of  the  old-time  Lud- 
dites has  again  broken  forth  in  the  wrecking  of  ma- 
chinery and  ruthless  destruction  of  property,  and  there 
is  trouble  and  turmoil  on  every  side  that,  unless  checked 
by  the  firm  hand  of  a  Conservative  government,  will 
bring  anarchy  and  ruin.  In  the  midst  of  aU  these 
movements  come  our  friends  of  the  opposition  with  their 


ANDE'S     REVENGE  359 

so-called,  universal  panacea  of  Reform.     Reform !     Re- 
form what? 

"  Would  you  reform  the  introduction  of  machinery  ? 
We  cannot  do  it.  If  the  people  themselves  could  see 
the  benefits  of  the  oncoming  flood  of  invention,  they 
would  not  desire  to  do  it.  With  the  vision  of  a  prophet 
I  clearly  see  the  time  when  business  shall  be  enlarged, 
living  become  cheaper,  wages  higher,  all  on  account  of 
the  increased  output  and  increased  commerce  brought 
and  caused  by  the  introduction  of  machinery.  Will 
this  affect  Cornwall.?  To-day,  Cornwall  has  nothing 
but  her  farms,  her  fisheries  and  her  mines,  but  with  the 
advent  of  new  machinery  will  come  the  spreading  of 
new  factories,  until  even  within  the  *  Delectable  Duchy ' 
shall  roar  and  sound  the  noise  of  spindles,  giving  em- 
ployment to  thousands  of  Cornishmen  and  their  children. 
The  increased  wealth  of  the  country  will  add  to  the  price 
to  be  obtained  for  fish  commodities  and  farm  products, 
and  there  will  be  an  era  of  prosperity  for  the  hardy 
miner,  fisherman  and  farmer  such  as  they  have  never 
dreamed  of  before.  Reform?  Shall  we  reform  the 
election  laws  and  boroughs.  The  statement  is  fre- 
quently made  that  the  election  laws  give  unequal  repre- 
sentation, and  that  there  are  members  of  the  Commons 
not  placed  there  by  the  people,  and  it  is  true ;  but  abolish 
the  present  system  and  you  will  purloin  from  the  nation 
the  services  of  some  of  her  stoutest  pillars.  If  every- 
thing is  to  depend  upon  a  wider  suffrage  and  the  throw- 
ing out  of  what  has  been  called  pocket  boroughs,  where 
would  our  broad-minded  statesmen,  who  have,   tempo- 


360  ANDE     TREMBATH 

rarily,  not  the  support  of  the  people,  come  in?  Had  it 
not  been  for  a  pocket  borough,  Burke,  that  Cicero  of 
English  politics,  would  never  have  entered  the  halls  of 
legislation.  Had  it  not  been  for  the  pocket  borough, 
our  most  eminent  statesmen.  North,  Flood,  Canning, 
Plunket,  Brougham,  and  others,  equally  indispensable, 
would  not  have  gained  a  foothold  in  the  parliamentarian 
halls.  Sheridan,  defeated  at  Stafford,  found  support  in 
Ilchester;  Grey,  refused  by  Northumberland,  was  re- 
turned by  Tavistock." 

Here  Sir  James  was  interrupted  by  a  rough,  country 
lout,  who  said  gravely  that  he  had  a  question  to  ask  of 
great  importance. 

"  Well,  my  man,"  and  Sir  James  flashed  a  keen  look 
at  him. 

"  I  would  like  to  ask,"  said  the  fellow  with  a  leer, 
**  whether  m'lord  could  lend  me  half  a  sovereign,?  " 

The  absurdity  of  the  thing  gave  the  audience  its 
desired  fun,  and  a  roar  of  laughter  came  from  the 
crowd.  But  Sir  James  was  not  the  man  to  be  put  down 
with  the  word  of  a  buffoon.  With  a  smile  of  sarcasm, 
he  responded: 

"  Yes,  my  man,  I  can  lend  you  not  only  a  half  a  sov- 
ereign, but  twenty  sovereigns,  when  the  cause  of  good 
government,  which  I  represent,  has  prevailed,  and  then 
you  will  need  no  borrowing,  but  you  will  have  so  many, 
easily  earned  by  yourself,  that  you  will  want  to  lend  in- 
stead of  borrow.  The  very  reason  that  so  many  are  out 
of  half  sovereigns  to-day  is  because  of  the  mob  spirit  and 
discontent  stirred  up  by  the  element  of  so-called  reform. 


ANDE'S     REVENGE  361 

I  ask  whether  it  was  patriotism  that  stirred  up  the  agi- 
tation for  so-called  reform?  No.  It  could  not  have 
been  that,  for  the  best  good  of  the  nation,  at  the  present 
time,  requires  peace  and  harmony." 

Continuing,  Sir  James  referred  to  the  agitation  of 
France  that  gave  vent  to  Napoleon,  and  was  inter- 
rupted here  and  there  with  various  crys  of  "  Tommy- 
rot!"  and  "Gammon!  "  from  his  opponents,  and  equally 
strong  "Hears !"  from  the  Conservative  wing,  and  closed 
his  speech  with  a  strong  plea  for  the  upholding  of  the 
old  line  party. 

He  was  not  nearly  so  confident  when  he  finished  as 
when  he  began.  He  was  beginning  to  realise  that  there 
was  an  undercurrent  against  him,  personally.  His 
agents  had  brought  him  word  before  of  this,  but  he  had 
placed  it  all  down  to  the  spirit  of  the  reform  movement. 
But  now  he  was  beginning  to  realise  different.  Dick 
Thomas  and  Ande's  agents  had  not  been  idle  in  the 
period  of  the  canvass.  Sir  James'  conduct  in  reference 
to  the  Trembaths,  to  the  Vivians,  and  his  crookedness 
in  politics,  was  fully  aired  among  the  voters,  and  those 
who  could  not  be  persuaded  to  vote  against  the  old  line 
policies,  were  moved,  by  the  revelation  of  the  unscrupu- 
lous conduct  of  Sir  James,  to  abstain  from  voting 
at  all. 

There  was  silence  when  the  new  candidate,  Andrew 
Trembath,  arose  to  respond.  Shaking  back  the  tangled 
masses  of  auburn  hair  from  his  forehead,  he  opened  his 
speech  in  clear,  ringing  tones.  His  introduction  dem- 
onstrated that  he  had  a  tolerably  clear  perception  of  the 


362  ANDE     TREMBATH 

issues  of  the  day.  He  spoke  feelingly  of  the  popular 
agitation. 

"  These  riots,  this  breaking  of  machinery,  this  tumult 
in  many  parts  of  the  kingdom,  to  what  is  it  due  ?  To  the 
spirit  of  reform?  No.  Rather  is  it  due  to  the  desire 
of  the  people  for  better  conditions.  The  time  has  come 
when  the  voice  of  the  people  shall  be  heard,  and  that 
voice  speaks  in  no  uncertain  accents.  Too  long  has  the 
government  been  in  the  hands  of  demagogues  who  have 
little  to  recommend  them  for  election  but  corruption ; 
and  now  all  over  this  fair  land  of  ours  the  people  have 
arisen  in  their  might,  and  demanded  an  extended  suf- 
frage. It  is  true,  as  Sir  James  has  said,  that  great  and 
good  men  have  been  returned  from  these  pocket  bor- 
oughs, but  that  single  advantage  can  be  offset  by  in- 
numerable and  inevitable  disadvantages.  These  pocket 
boroughs  are  generally  nests  of  corruption,  held  and 
dominated  by  some  lord  or  landholder.  The  half  a  dozen 
or  so  good  men  that  were  placed  in  position  by  them  can 
be  offset  by  the  hundreds  of  members  that  are  fitter  for 
Newgate  than  for  the  parliamentarian  halls." 

"  Men  like  James  Lanyan,"  shouted  some  one  in  the 
crowd. 

An  angry  hue  was  on  Sir  James'  countenance  for  a 
moment,  but  neither  he  nor  Ande  noticed  the  interrup- 
tion. 

"  What  right  has  a  green  mound  in  a  grassy  field  or 
a  hayrick  to  send  a  representative,  while  great  and 
flourishing  towns  like  Manchester  and  Shefiield  have 
none.''  " 


ANDE'S     REVENGE  363 

"  Hear !   Hear !   Hear !  "  shouted  many  in  the  crowd. 

Continuing,  Ande  took  up,  one  by  one,  the  arguments 
of  the  opposition,  and  tore  them  shred  by  shred,  until 
not  a  vestige  remained.  Then  he  triumphantly  drew 
from  his  pocket  a  perfect  arsenal  of  facts,  culled  from 
Sir  James'  speech  of  years  ago,  when,  turned  down  for 
a  time  by  his  own  party,  he  sought  refuge  in  the  ideas 
of  reform.  The  very  facts  used  in  his  conversation 
with  Squire  Vivian,  Captain  Tom  Lanyan  and  the 
others,  when  around  the  tea  table  in  Lanyan  Hall  so 
many  years  ago,  and  which  facts  he  used  in  a  speech  on 
the  hustings  at  that  time,  were  quoted  now,  and  they 
were  like  arrows  piercing  his  very  soul.  The  Conserva- 
tive wing  were  silent  with  consternation,  and  Sir  James 
looked  down,  uneasily.  Then  turning  to  the  record  of 
Sir  James  in  the  Commons,  he  quoted  how  he  had  again 
and  again  voted  against  the  will  of  his  constituents. 
Then  after  a  few,  withering  flights  of  oratory,  which 
sent  the  Radicals  wild  with  delight  and  chilled  the  Con- 
servatives into  icy  stillness,  he  said: 

"  And  now,  members  of  the  Conservative  wing,  you  are 
going  to  vote  for  a  man  who  has  uttered  sentiments  like 
these,  and  acted  in  this  manner.  I  need  not  speak  to 
the  members  of  my  own  party,  I  know  their  determina- 
tion for  good  government,  but  to  you  Conservatives. 
You  are  going  to  vote  for  a  man  who  has  thus  betrayed 
your  sacred  trust  and  thus  surrendered  your  standards 
to  the  enemy.  What  does  all  his  actions  and  speaking 
amount  to  in  your  minds.?  Just  this,  that  though  he  is 
an  experienced  hand,  yet  you  know  not  what  he  stands 


364  ANDE     TREMBATH 

for.  Like  a  vacillating  weather  vane,  he  is  apt  to  be 
turned  one  way  or  the  other  as  the  interests  of  Sir 
James  Lanyan  may  direct." 

There  was  an  uproarious  "  Hear !  Hear !  "  from  the 
Radicals,  and  the  black  looks  that  the  Conservatives 
turned  on  Sir  James  were  perceived  by  even  that  worthy 
himself.  He  shrugged  his  shoulders  and  took  on  his  in- 
different and  placid  expression.  But  Andrew  Trembath 
was  not  through  yet,  for  he  continued  bringing  up 
clause  after  clause  of  Sir  James'  speeches,  sweeping  the 
audience  fairly  off  its  feet  with  a  torrent  of  indignant 
oratory  such  as  it  had  never  before  heard.  All  the 
poetry  in  his  nature,  all  the  passion  of  years  of  wrong 
heaped  upon  his  family,  burst  forth  then  and  there. 
There  was  no  more  applause  from  any  in  that  assem- 
blage, for  they  were  all  so  enthralled  that  they  hung  upon 
each  word  uttered,  riveted  their  eyes  upon  each  gesture, 
and  remained  motionless  like  a  painted  throng.  Then 
turning  from  indignant  invective,  he  gazed  lovingly  over 
the  Bowling  Green  and  swept  his  vision  around  toward 
the  town,  and  his  eyes  became  misty  with  emotion. 

*'  Helston !  Dear  old  Helston !  "  he  exclaimed,  and 
he  stretched  out  his  arms  to  the  town  and  people,  and 
there  was  such  emotion,  tenderness  and  love  in  that 
tone  that  the  crowd  wept  though  they  could  not  tell 
why. 

Sir  James'  proposer  had  called  him  a  foreigner  in  lit- 
tle touch  with  English  ideals.  He  proved  the  contrary. 
He  called  vividly  to  mind  the  days  spent  as  a  school  lad 
among  them,  the  exciting  days  of  the  hurling  match 


He  opened  his  speech  in  clear,  ringing  tones" 


ANDE'S     REVENGE  365 

when  Breage  was  defeated,  and  men  nodded  their  heads 
and  smiled  as  they  remembered.  Then  sweeping  into 
the  closing  address,  he  said : 

"  We  need  a  strong  and  experienced  hand  at  the  helm 
in  these  perilous  times,  it  is  true,  but  far  more  do  we 
need  honesty,  virtue,  and  manliness.  Is  youth,  though 
inexperienced,  yet  with  average  intelligence,  to  be  de- 
spised and  condemned  by  the  very  fact  of  youth?  Ask 
the  rector  or  parish  minister  the  names  of  the  two  most 
prominent  lights  in  the  expansion  of  religion,  and  he 
will  say  young  Saul  and  youthful  Timothy.  Gray  at 
thirty-four  finished  the  most  beautiful  elegy  in  the  Eng- 
lish tongue.  Milton  began  his  career  at  a  tender  age. 
Shakespeare  was  but  twenty-seven  when  his  name  be- 
came an  authority  on  the  drama.  Napoleon,  in  his 
meteoric  career,  astonished  and  convulsed  the  world,  yet 
he  was  a  young  man.  What  name  more  brilliant  in 
English  annals  for  courage  and  success  than  that  of  the 
well-beloved  Wolfe  of  Quebec  fame — yet  he  perished  on 
the  field  of  battle  at  the  age  of  thirty. 

"  Civil  government  has  also  her  young  heroes.  Need  I 
mention  the  great  name  of  Burke,  who,  at  the  age  of 
twenty-six,  won  for  himself  a  reputation  for  statesman- 
like judgment  and  skill  that  has  placed  his  name  high 
on  the  imperishable  roll  of  fame.  Need  I  mention  Fox, 
and  that  other  character  who  still  lives  as  a  blessing  in 
the  minds  of  Englishmen — still  lives  as  the  greatest 
diplomatist  of  the  age — still  lives  in  the  agitation  for 
liberty  and  fair  representation  that  so  pervades  the 
country  to-day  ?  " 


366  ANDE     TREMBATH 

"  Pitt !    Pitt !    Pitt !  "  roared  the  crowd. 

"  Aye,  you  have  named  him.  Ask  any  bookman  for 
a  life  of  William  Pitt,  and  he  will  hand  you  down  a  his- 
tory of  England  from  1781  to  1806,  for  from  twenty- 
one  years  of  age  down  to  the  day  of  his  death,  his  life 
has  been  a  history  of  the  empire.  Is  youth  and  inex- 
perience to  be  despised.?     No!     No!" 

"  No !  No !  "  shouted  the  crowd,  taking  up  the  words 
of  the  speaker.  "  Huzza  for  Andrew  Trembath ! " 
And  for  the  space  of  a  few  minutes  the  crowd  let  out  its 
pent-up  enthusiasm  in  wild  gesticulating  of  hands  and 
roaring  of  voices. 

The  speaker  concluded  with  a  peroration  that  was 
eloquent  and  passionate.  Pathetic  passages  at  times 
hushed  that  great  crowd  into  silence,  moved  it  to  tears, 
and  then  again  swayed  it  to  applause,  and  when  it  was 
finished,  and  the  speaker  resumed  liis  seat,  there  was 
silence  for  a  moment — ^then,  like  the  roaring  of  great 
guns  in  battle  action,  the  throng.  Radical  and  Conserva- 
tive, sent  up  shout  after  shout,  that  reverberated  again 
and  again  o'er  the  town  of  Helston,  and  caused  the  birds 
in  the  neighbouring  trees  to  take  refuge  in  flight.  Such 
a  speech  had  never  been  delivered  from  the  hustings 
before.  Old  men  shook  their  heads  sagely,  and  muttered 
to  each  other  that  in  a  short  time  another  Pitt  would 
astonish  England  and  the  world,  and  that  one  would  be 
from  Cornwall. 

Suffice  it  to  say,  that  Andrew  Trembath  was  elected 
by  an  overwhelming  vote  as  M.  P.  for  Helston. 

Old  Parson  Trant  met  him  the  next  day  near  the 


ANDE'S     REVENGE  36T 

Primrose  Cottage,  and  congratulated  him  on  his  election 
and  bright,  future  prospects. 

**  I  had  a  purpose  in  view,"  said  Ande.  *'  It  was  not 
so  much  my  desire  to  enter  Parliament  as  my  antagonism 
to  Sir  James.  I  have  had  my  first  revenge,  and  there 
are  others  to  follow." 

"  Lad,  lad,"  said  the  old  parson,  as  he  sadly  shook 
his  head,  "  I  like  not  that  revengeful  spirit,  though  you 
have  had  much  provocation.  There  is  a  better  way  of 
revenge." 

"What  way.?" 

"  *  If  thy  enemy  hurtger,  feed  him ;  if  he  thirst,  give 
him  drink.' " 

Ande  said  nothing,  and  the  conversation,  after  a  time, 
passed  to  other  themes. 

After  his  defeat.  Sir  James  Lanyan  gave  his  atten- 
tion to  speculation,  but  the  ventures  turning  out  un- 
profitable, he  was  compelled  to  sell  Trembath  Manor, 
through  his  solicitors,  to  the  agents  of  a  wealthy  Ameri- 
can traveller.  But  this  was  but  a  drop  in  the  bucket  of 
his  financial  reverses,  and  Lanyan  Hall  followed  suit. 
The  purchaser  of  Lanyan  Hall  was  Andrew  Trembath, 
but  the  fact  was  unknown  to  any  one  but  old  Parson 
Trant,  to  whom  Ande  had  confided  the  secret  of  his 
wealth.  Subsequently  the  purchaser  was  revealed  to  Sir 
James,  and  the  revelation  seemed  a  crushing  blow  to  him, 
for  he  sickened  and  began  to  sink  rapidly. 

"  'Tis  my  second  revenge,"  said  Ande  to  old  Parson 
Trant,  and  there  was  a  grim,  determined  look  on  his 
features.     "  There  are  others  to  follow." 


868  ANDE     TREMBATH 

"  Lad,  lad,  you  must  not  go  on  in  this  way.  Ven- 
geance is  of  God.  *  Vengeance  is  mine,  I  will  repay.' 
There  is  a  much  better  way,  and  you  can  do  me,  your 
old  pastor,  a  favour,  and  render  God  a  service  at  the 
same  time."  The  old  parson  drew  a  pathetic  picture 
of  Sir  James  in  his  present  condition,  poor,  helplessly 
sinking  into  the  grave.  To  follow  up  any  more  of  this 
revenge  was  hellish.  It  belied  Ande's  nature  to  continue 
thus,  and  if  this  revenge  should  continue,  he,  the  parson, 
could  not  love  him  any  more.  There  was  one  thing  that 
would  prolong  Sir  James'  life,  and  that  was  the  bringing 
back  to  him  of  his  son,  Richard,  who  was  leading  a  wild, 
vicious  life  somewhere  in  London.  This  was  the  report 
of  the  physician.  "  He  must  be  brought  back  to  his 
father,  who  is  calling  for  him.  Who  is  better  fitted  for 
that  mission  than  yourself,  Master  Ande?  You  are 
going  to  attend  Parliament  In  a  few  weeks.  Go  a  little 
before — aye,  go  at  once  to  London,  and  take  up  this 
mission." 

"  I !  I !  "  stammered  Ande,  in  some  astonishment 
and  with  a  little  of  the  old,  angry  feeling  tingling 
in  his  veins.  "  You  know  what  we  have  suffered — 
you " 

"  But,  Ande,"  interrupted  the  old  rector,  as  he  placed 
his  arm  around  his  shoulder  in  the  same,  affectionate 
manner  as  in  the  olden  days,  and  with  kind,  loving  tones 
resumed,  "If  Christ  had  felt  that  way  to  us, where  would 
we  be?  "  The  old  parson  preached  one  of  the  most 
appealing  sermons,  then  and  there,  that  he  had  ever  de- 
livered.     Concluding,   he   said,   quoting   the  words   of 


ANDE'S     REVENGE  369 

Scripture :  " '  Ye  have  heard  that  it  hath  been  said 
an  eye  for  an  eye  and  a  tooth  for  a  tooth;  but  I  say 
unto  ye,  resist  not  evil.  Ye  have  heard  that  it  hath  been 
said,  ye  shall  love  thy  neighbour  and  hate  thine  enemy ; 
but  I  say  unto  to  you,  love  your  enemies,  bless  them  that 
curse  you,  do  good  to  them  that  hate  you, — that  ye  may 
be  the  children  of  your  Father  in  heaven.'  '  Be  not 
overcome  of  evil,  but  overcome  evil  with  good.' " 

"  Would  it  not  be  hypocritical  to  show  kindness,  when 
you  are  bitter  with  revenge  within?  " 

**  No ;  by  showing  kindness,  even  though  you  do  not 
feel  it  within,  yet  nevertheless  it  has  a  healthy  action  on 
the  soul.  Do  a  kindness  and  you  grow  kind.  We  be- 
come what  we  do,  my  lad.  Do  it  now,  not  because  of 
your  feelings,  but  because  the  Lord  commanded  it.  And 
by  and  by  you  will  do  kindness  to  an  enemy  because  your 
own  heart  commands  it," 

'*  I  will  go  in  the  morning." 

"  And  God  will  bless  you,  my  son,"  said  the  old  rector, 
as  he  parted  from  him  and  wended  his  way  home.  There, 
the  parson  mentioned  the  matter  to  his  wife,  Harriet, 
with  some  doubt  as  to  the  issue. 

"  I  fear  me,  Harriet,  it  is  like  sending  a  fire-brand  to 
quench  a  fire-brand." 

Andrew  Trembath  was  true  to  his  promise,  for  that 
week  saw  him  in  London,  actively  pushing  the  search. 
Hearing  of  a  midnight  brawl,  in  which  Richard  was 
engaged,  and  which  was  publicly  published  in  the  news- 
papers, he  sought  that  quarter,  but  Richard,  fearing 
perhaps  the  police,  had  fled.     His  father  had  also  heard 


370  ANDE     TREMBATH 

of  the  brawl.  It  was  the  last  of  a  series  of  crushing 
disgraces  on  the  part  of  his  son  that  sent  Sir  James 
into  the  grave.  Ande  did  not  give  up  the  search,  but 
Parliament  convening,  he  was  forced  to  give  more  time 
to  other  affairs. 

It  was  in  the  early  hours  of  the  morning  when  one  of 
the  night  sessions  of  Parliament  adjourned,  and  Andrew 
Trembath,  tired  of  the  stupid,  blocking  tactics  of  those 
opposed  to  reform,  was  wending  his  way  home  to  his 
rented  quarters  in  Portman  Square.  The  streets  were 
deserted  and  he  hastened  along  absorbed  in  his  thoughts. 
A  figure  stole  out  from  the  shadow  of  some  buildings  in 
his  rear.  There  was  a  quick  leap,  the  glitter  of  steel 
in  the  air,  and  then  Ande  felt  a  stinging  sensation  in 
his  shoulder.  Like  a  flash  he  turned  and  had  his  assail- 
ant pinioned  in  an  iron  grip.  He  struggled  to  release 
himself,  but  to  no  avail.  The  knife  dropped  with  a  clang 
to  the  pavement  and  Ande  kicked  it  from  him.  The 
light  of  a  street  lamp  flashed  on  the  would-be  assassin's 
features. 

"  Richard  Lanyan !  You !  You !  You,  who  broke 
your  father's  heart, — you,  the  Etonian  scholar, — ^you, 
base  as  you  are,  stoop  to  be  the  assassin ! " 

"  Yes,  curse  you !  "  gritted  the  answer  from  between 
the  clenched  teeth  of  the  T^^rithing  assailant. 

"And  why?" 

"  Because  you  have  been  the  ruin  of  father,  and  not  I. 
You  occupy  his  place  in  Parliament.  You  took  away 
Lanyan  Hall.  You  took  away  the  only  woman  I  ever 
loved,  and  it  is — revenge." 


ANDE'S     REVENGE  371 

*'  Lanyan,  listen  to  me,"  sternly,  and  still  keeping  his 
grip.  Ande  related  in  brief  epitome  the  injuries  he 
and  his  and  the  Vivians  had  received  at  the  hands  of 
Richard  and  his  father,  closing  with  the  question :  "Who 
has  been  the  injured  party?  Your  father's  place  I 
occupy  because  the  people  put  me  there.  Your  father 
lost  Lanyan  Hall  because  of  his  foolish  speculations. 
If  I  hadn't  bought  it,  some  one  else  would.  His  death 
was  mainly  brought  on  by  your  own  sottish  conduct." 

The  eyes  of  Lanyan  flamed  with  sullen  passion,  as  he 
muttered,  "  I'll  not  endure  this  from  you,"  and  again 
made  an  effort  to  escape. 

"  Make  another  effort  to  escape  and  I  hand  you  over 
to  the  watchman,  or  perhaps  better  still  I  could  kill  you 
where  you  are.  What  would  the  law  and  opinion  say  if 
I  should.''  They  would  say  it  was  good  riddance  of  a 
rough  character  and  in  self-defence,  and  you  see  I  have 
the  strength  to  carry  it  out." 

Lanyan  paled  a  little^  notwithstanding  the  brave 
heart  he  had,  for  he  realised  that  he  was  but  feeble  in 
the  hands  of  this  man,  his  captor.  He  ceased  his  strug- 
gles and  listened  sullenly. 

"  But  I  have  other  plans,"  said  Ande,  gently.  "  I 
believe  the  fellow  who  won  a  prize  at  Eton  is  capable 
of  better  things.  I  place  the  best  construction  on  your 
past  actions.  It  was  the  ungovernable  love  for  Mis- 
tress Alice  Vivian  that  caused  much  of  your  past 
action." 

There  was  no  answer.  "^ 

"  I  know  that  was  the  cause,  and  also  the  cause  of 


372  ANDE     TREMBATH 

your  whole  life  being  spent  thus,  and  also  of  this  last 
attempted  deed.  And  I  had  been  searching  for  you  for 
months  before  your  father's  death,  plunging  into  every 
slum  and  dive  of  London.  I  promised  to  bring  you  back 
to  your  father,  and  thus  prolong  his  days.  Your  name 
was  the  last  he  called  upon  in  his  delirium.  I  tried  to 
find  you,  but  failed." 

Ande  released  his  grasp,  for  it  was  unnecessary.  Lan- 
yan  was  weeping  in  an  agony  of  remorse  and  wretched- 
ness. 

*'  But  still  the  hour  is  not  too  late  now  to  begin  again 
in  right  paths,  and  rear  up  your  family  name  to  its 
former,  ancestral  honour.     You  can  do  It." 

*'  I  cannot,"  groaned  Lanyan,  all  hatred  and  ven- 
geance apparently  gone  from  him.     *'  I  cannot ;  I  have 

no  money,  and  to  live  honestly  In  a  poor  position 

No— No." 

"  I  will  help  you.  Come  now,  Lanyan,  let  us  forget 
the  past  evils  between  our  families.  Oh,  think  how  good 
God  is  to  prevent  you  in  the  commission  of  a  great  crime, 
this  night,  that  would  blast  your  name  irretrievably. 
God  is  better  to  us  both  than  we  deserve.  He  bestowed 
upon  us  these  minds,  these  souls,  and  placed  us  In  a 
beautiful  world,  and  yet  we  abuse  His  gifts.  Think, 
Lanyan,  that  you  and  I  have  souls  to  present  upright 
and  pure  before  the  great  God,  the  Father.  It  Is  a 
terrible  thing  to  think  that  these  passions.  If  we  allow 
them  to  rule  us  here,  by  God's  judgment,  they  shall  rule 
us  In  the  future.  I  confess  that  my  hatred  for  you  and 
yours  has  mastered  me  heretofore,  but  Parson  Trant 


ANDE'S     REVENGE  373 

preached  me  a  special  sermon  privately,  when  he  asked 
me  to  seek  jou,  and  I  have  revolved  It  over  and  over 
again  in  my  mind,  and,  with  God's  help,  which  I  prayed 
for  and  received,  my  hatred  is  gone.  If  I  had  found 
you  before,  I  should  not  have  spoken  to  you  in  this  way. 
I  should  have  probably  mentioned  your  father's  desire 
to  see  you  and  left.  Now  it  is  different.  Let  the  past 
be  past,  and  here  is  my  hand." 

Lanyan  grasped  the  hand  extended  to  him  and  there 
was  a  wavering  in  his  voice  as  he  said: 

*'  Trembath,  you  have  a  much  better  nature  than  I 
have.     I  must  go." 

**  No,  no,"  said  Ande,  detaining  him,  and  he  poured 
forth  his  plan,  then  and  there,  for  the  turning  over  of 
Lanyan  Hall  to  Richard.  This  was  conditioned  on  his 
reform. 

Richard  was  to  have  possession  of  the  ancestral 
place  at  a  nominal  rent,  and  when  the  rent  would  total 
the  sum  Ande  had  paid  for  it,  the  deed  of  complete 
ownership  was  to  pass  over  to  Richard. 

There  was  silence  for  a  moment. 

'*  Come,"  said  Ande,  as  he  placed  one  arm  over  his 
shoulder,  "  don't  on  account  of  past  ill  feeling  refuse 
this  chance  of  making  a  man  of  yourself  and  uplifting, 
once  again,  your  ancient  family." 

There  was  a  period  of  inward  conflict  in  the  breast 
of  the  man  beside  him,  and  then,  in  resolute  tones,  he 
answered,  simply ;  "  I'll  try.  Forgive  me,  Trembath, 
for  to-night's  action,  and  for  the  injustice  done  by  our 
family." 


374  ANDE     TREMBATH 

The  two  men  shook  hands  firmly,  and  separated,  Ande 
to  seek  a  surgeon  to  have  his  wound  dressed.  But  the 
wound  gave  him  little  pain,  and  what  pain  there  was 
w£is  wonderfully  alleviated  by  the  gladness  of  soul 
within.  He  knew  that  the  best  vengeance  was  forgive- 
ness, as  the  old  rector  had  said. 


CHAPTER   XXXII 

CHRISTMAS    IN     THE    OLD    HALL 

"Lo,  now  is  come  the  Christmas  feast 
Let  every  man  be  jolly. 
Each  room  with  yvie  leaves  is  dress'd 
And  every  post  with  holly; 
Now  all  our  neighbours'  chimneys  smoke 
And  Christmas  blocks  are  burning, 
Their  ovens,  they  with  baked  meats  chokej 
And  aU  their  spits  are  turning; 
Without  the  door  let  sorrow  lie. 
And  if  for  cold  it  hap  to  die. 
We'll  bury  un  in  a  Christmas  pie. 
And  evermore  be  merry." 

— Withers. 

'*AH,  this  is  like  Christmas,"  said  the  old  Major  as 
he  wended  his  way  with  his  wife  and  Ande  to  Trembath 
Manor  on  Christmas  eve.  The  Manor  was  to  be  re- 
opened that  night  and  the  strange  owner,  through  his 
secretary,  had  sent  out  invitations  to  the  country 
around,  and  among  those  receiving  invitations  were  the 
Major  and  his  wife  and  son. 

They  passed  through  the  gates,  the  old  Major  paus- 
ing a  moment  to  scan  the  Trembath  arms  and  remark- 
ing, "  I  am  glad  the  new  owner  has  not  seen  fit  to  remove 
our  coat-of-arms  from  the  gates." 

"  The  driveway  is  in  better  shape  than  it  was  in  the 

375 


S76  ANDE     TREMBATH 

days  of  Squire  Vivian,"  said  Ande,  as  the  gravel 
crunched  under  their  advancing  steps. 

"  A  careful  and  neat  owner ;  it  will  do  me  good  to 
meet  him,"  said  the  Major. 

Forth  through  the  trees  ahead  gleamed  the  twinkling 
lights  of  many  windows,  only  obstructed  by  the 
passing  of  forms  within  and  the  figures  of  many  great 
holly  wreaths.  The  great  lantern  in  front  of  the  double 
doors  was  gleaming  brilliantly  through  its  festoons  of 
evergreen,  and  from  the  hall  could  be  heard  the  sound 
of  ringing  festivity  and  jollification.  The  door  was 
opened  widely  at  the  sound  of  the  great  knocker,  and 
the  butler  footman,  bowing  low,  ushered  them  into  the 
great  hall.  Groups  of  elderly  people  were  engaged  at 
their  favourite  game,  whist,  at  different  tables,  and 
down  the  long  room  were  others  engaged  in  sundry 
amusements.  The  panelled  walls  had  been  rewaxed  and 
were  glistening  with  holly  and  mistletoe.  The  large 
picture  of  Squire  Vivian's  father  still  smiled  friendly 
at  the  picture  of  King  George  II.  on  the  other  wall, 
and  in  the  great  open  fireplace  roared,  cracked,  leaped, 
danced  and  shouted  with  all  the  ecstacy  of  Christmas 
jollity  the  flames  of  the  great  yule  log. 

"  Where's  the  new  squire.?  "  whispered  the  old  Major 
to  his  son.  He  had  hardly  asked  the  question,  before 
he  started  back  in  amazement  at  a  sight  he  saw  over 
the  great,  panelled  fireplace.  Two  great  oil-paintings, 
heavy  in  their  rich  framings,  riveted  his  attention.  He 
stared  at  them  and  then  at  the  crowd  of  Christmas 
revellers,  who,  though  now  thoroughly  quieted,  yet  had 


CHRISTMAS    IN    THE    OLD    HALL   377 

gleams  of  suppressed  merriment  on  their  countenances. 
What  could  it  mean?  Those  pictures?  Where  had  they 
obtained  them?  Was  his  mind  affected?  He  knew  that 
he  was  growing  old,  and  as  he  dazedly  thought  of  this, 
he  hurriedly  passed  his  hand  through  his  whitened  hair, 
a  gnarled,  brown  bough  in  the  midst  of  a  snowdrift.  The 
folding  doors,  separating  the  servants'  hall  from  the 
apartment  they  were  in,  were  thrown  open,  revealing  the 
merry  faces  of  group  after  group  of  servants.  It  was 
a  tableau  of  suppressed  excitement,  broken  at  length 
by  the  voice  of  Parson  Trant. 

"  My  friends,  we  have  gathered  here  not  only  for 
Christmas  festivity,  but  to  do  honour  to  the  dead  and  to 
the  living."  Pointing  to  the  picture  on  the  right,  he 
continued:  "  Behold  the  picture  of  Captain  Andrew 
Trembath.  You  are  all  aware  of  the  terrible  injustice 
done  his  memory.  He  was  the  most  patriotic  and  loyal 
of  Cornish  gentlemen.  His  long  war  record  amply  testi- 
fies the  fact.  He  was  wounded  at  Prestonpans,  and  at 
Culloden,  and  did  worthy  service  under  Braddock  in 
America.  After  that  deplorable  battle,  he  was  cap- 
tured by  the  Indians,  escaped  from  them,  slew  a  French 
officer,  garbed  himself  in  his  uniform  and  for  greater 
security  in  the  enemy's  country  inserted  his  name  in 
the  dead  officer's  commission  papers.  He  was  accidentally 
shot  by  the  troops  of  General  Armstrong,  the  thought 
of  treason  penetrated  the  public  mind  and  the  estate  of 
Trembath  was  confiscated.  Yet,  after  all  these  years 
truth  prevails.  An  old  snuff-box,  found  in  the  wilds  of 
America,  reveals  the  secret,  and  though  dead.  Captain 


878  ANDE     TREMBATH 

Andrew  Trembath  is  once  more  honoured  by  the  people 
as  a  faithful  soldier  and  loyal  subject  of  the  King." 
Then,  turning  to  the  other  picture,  he  continued: 

"  Behold  the  picture  of  Major  Thomas  Trembath, 
who  served  the  King  nobly  in  the  Peninsular  campaign, 
in  the  War  of  the  American  Colonies  and  in  the  Cana- 
dian War.  He  disappeared,  due  to  an  impression  con- 
veyed to  him  that  his  family  was  dead,  and  for  many 
long  years  was  an  exile  in  the  wilds  of  America.  Then 
as  a  hunter  he  lived  by  the  pursuit  of  game.  To  the 
place  of  his  abode  came  his  son,  Andrew  Trembath,  and 
after  a  time  became  known  to  him,  and  through  the  find- 
ing of  the  records  of  the  snufF-box,  already  mentioned, 
he  is  restored  to  his  former  honours, — friends  and 
country.  His  life  formerly  was  sad,  now  we  trust  his 
declining  years  will  be  full  of  sunshine,  and  I  greet  and 
welcome  him  as  Squire  Trembath,  the  rightful  master 
of  Trembath  Manor." 

"  Welcome  to  your  own,  again,  comrade,"  said  old 
Captain  Tom  Lanyan,  as  he  heartily  shook  the  squire's 
hand. 

Others  crowded  around  the  old  squire,  among  them 
Dick  Thomas,  Tom  Glaze,  and  numerous  of  the  parish 
gentry. 

The  old  squire  and  his  wife  were  so  dazed  that  they 
could  not  speak,  and  so  they  were  escorted  to  the  great 
armchairs  in  readiness  for  them  near  the  great  yule 
log,  and  one  by  one  the  Christmas  guests  came  near  and 
gave  their  greetings.  When  it  was  all  finished,  the  new 
squire  found  his  voice. 


CHRISTMAS    IN    THE    OLD    HALL  379 

"  I  am  glad,  my  friends,  to  be  with  you  here  in  the 
hall  of  my  fathers,  but  all  this  seems  too  wonderful  to 
me  to  be  true;  yet  I  cannot  help  but  believe  what  has 
been  told  me — ^but  how  has  all  this  come  about?  Has  the 
government " 

"  There  has  not  been  anything  wonderful  about  it 
but  the  kindness  of  Providence,"  said  Ande  Trembath, 
arising  to  speak.  "  Years  ago,  when  a  lad,  I  resolved 
to  remove  the  stain  of  treason  from  our  name.  My  life 
here  and  at  school  is  familiar  to  you  all.  By  a  strange 
series  of  adventures  my  classmate,  Dick  Thomas,  and 
myself  found  ourselves  adrift  on  a  bit  of  wreckage  in 
the  English  channel.  We  were  picked  up  by  a  Brazilian 
ship  and  after  a  weary  journey  were  landed  at  Rio  de 
Janeiro.  For  some  time  we  laboured  in  the  fields  of 
planters,  and  then  betook  our  way  inland  to  the  ridges 
of  Sierro  Do  Frio.  It  was  here  that  we  laboured  under 
a  brazen  sun  for  the  space  of  three  years.  I  cannot  tell 
of  all  the  various  vicissitudes  that  overtook  us  there. 
At  one  time  I  was  down  with  fever  and,  but  for  the  help 
of  Dick,  would  have  succumbed  to  its  ravages.  At 
another  time  I  repaid  the  debt  by  nursing  Dick  through 
a  serious  illness.  Gentlemen,  you  have  all  seen  him 
wrestle  with  Tom  Glaze,  but  he  was  not  the  hardest 
opponent  he  met.  He  had  the  hardihood  to  win  cham- 
pionship honours  in  a  struggle  with  an  immense  Bra- 
zilian puma,  or  mountain  lion.  I  do  not  remember 
whether  Dick  sprang  at  the  lion  or  the  lion  at  him.  All 
I  remember  was  seeing  man  and  beast  in  a  hideous 
mix-up,  worse  than  any  wrestling  match  I  had  ever  seen. 


380  ANDE    TREMBATH 

I  ran  to  our  cabin  for  a  gun,  but  it  was  unnecessary, 
for  when  I  returned,  there  were  Dick  and  the  lion 
stretched  beside  each  other.  He  had  choked  it  to  death, 
but  was  so  lacerated  himself  that  it  was  months  before 
he  became  well.  In  the  midst  of  our  work  we  were  suc- 
cessful, both  in  diamonds  and  gold,  and  quitted  the 
regions  wealthy  men.  I  deposited  my  wealth  in  the  banks 
of  New  Orleans,  and  the  charm  of  the  hunting  life  still 
being  on  me,  and  being  anxious  to  visit  the  place  of  my 
grandfather's  death,  we  journeyed  to  the  Kittanning 
region.  The  result  of  that  Kittanning  trip  is  now 
known  to  all  England.  I  heard  that  the  Manor  was  for 
sale,  and  secretly,  through  agents,  purchased  it.  And 
now,  father  and  mother,  I  hand  over  to  you  the  title 
deeds  of  Trembath  Manor  and  the  Wheal  Whimble  tin 
mine  as  a  Christmas  present.  I  wish  also  to  add  this 
check  on  the  Bank  of  England  for  the  sum  of  fifty 
thousand  pounds.  A  merry  Christmas,  and  may  you 
have  many,  happy  years  in  the  home  of  our  people." 

"  Merry  Christmas !  'Tis  the  merriest  Christmas  I 
have  had  in  years,"  said  the  old  squire  with  emotion,  as 
he  wiped  the  tears  away,  that  would  persist  in  gathering 
in  his  eyes. 

Mrs.  Elizabeth  Trembath  said  nothing,  but  her  bright 
shining  eyes  revealed  her  happiness  as  she  gently  pulled 
her  son's  head  down  and  kissed  him. 

Here  the  thrumming  of  a  harp  was  heard  and  a  cur- 
tain was  drawn  from  an  alcove  near  by,  revealing  Uncle 
Billy,  the  droll,  with  an  orchestra  at  his  back.  In  the 
meantime  Ande  withdrew.     The  droU  and  his  orchestra 


CHRISTMAS    IN    THE    OLD    HALL   381 

paused  not  a  moment,  but  plunged,  with  voices  and  in- 
struments combined,  into  the  Hymn  of  the  Lark. 

The  song  was  sung  to  its  very  end,  and  the  old  squire, 
as  he  nodded,  said,  "  Yes,  yes,  it's  true ;  evil  fails  at  last 
and  right  prevails." 

He  had  hardly  finished  speaking  when  the  orchestra 
burst  into  strains  of  Mendelssohn,  and  down  the  great, 
hall  stairway  came  a  procession  such  as  it  had  never 
witnessed  before.  First  came  a  troop  of  little  girls 
bearing  flowers  and  scattering  them  profusely  in  the 
way.  Then  followed  ladies.  "  Ah,  the  bridesmaids," 
whispered  some  one,  and  then  followed  by  their  respec- 
tive attendants,  in  regular  procession,  came  Ande  Trem- 
bath  and  his  affianced  bride.  Mistress  Alice  Vivian. 
Slowly  they  proceeded  up  the  hall  and  took  their  respec- 
tive positions  before  old  Parson  Trant.  The  orchestra 
gave  one  clashing  peal  of  music  and  then  was  silent,  and 
then  arose  the  mellow  voice  of  the  rector  in  the  marriage 
ceremony  of  the  Church  of  England.  At  the  words, 
**  Can  any  man  say  aught  why  these  two  should  not  be 
joined  together  in  holy  wedlock,"  the  voice  of  the  squire 
was  heard. 

"  There  have  been  so  many  things  happening  on  this 
Christmas  eve,  that  I  hesitate  to  interrupt  the  service, 
but  have  the  laws  of  England  changed  in  my  absence. 
I  mean  that  law  that  states  that  no  marriages  are  lawful 
except  those  performed  in  a  parish  church.?  " 

**  The  laws  of  England  are  the  same,"  said  Parson 
Trant,  "  but  we  have  a  special  dispensation  from  the 
archbishop,  dispensing  with  the  banns,  and  allowing,  in 


382  ANDE     TREMBATH 

consideration  of  the  return  of  Squire  Trembath  and  the 
happiness  of  this  occasion,  the  ceremony  to  be  per- 
formed in  the  Manor  of  Trembath." 

"  Ah,  that  is  different ;  my  blessing  and  heartiest  well 
wishes,"  said  the  squire,  as  he  sank  back  in  his  arm- 
chair. 

After  the  ceremony  all  adjourned  to  the  dining  hall, 
where  an  elaborate  wedding  dinner  awaited  them.  During 
the  wedding  feast  the  old  squire  told  of  his  many  adven- 
tures, to  which  Dick  and  Ande  added  some  of  their  own. 

"  It  tells  like  a  story-book,"  said  Tom  Glaze,  in 
admiration. 

"  Or  rather  like  a  drama,"  said  bluff  Captain  Tom 
Lanyan.  "  Wouldn't  I  have  liked  to  have  been  in  the 
Shawnee  fight,"  and  the  tough,  old,  Wellington  veteran 
rubbed  his  hands  in  delight. 

"  I  have  a  bit  of  news,"  said  Ande,  as  he  drew  a  letter 
from  his  pocket.  "  Here  is  a  letter  from  Hugh  Lark  in 
America,  just  received."  He  scanned  it  rapidly  and  re- 
placed it,  and  then  turned  with  a  smile  to  his  father  and 
the  company.  "  He  says  that  he  has  given  up  the  idea 
of  the  silver  mine,  that  Professor  Bill  Banks  has  been 
elected  to  Congress,  and  that  old  Burke  still  thinks  Bill 
is  high  lamdt." 

The  voices  of  carol  singers  were  heard  without,  and 
the  wedding  dinner  being  ended,  they  again  returned 
to  the  main  hall  to  enjoy  the  singing.  The  "  curl " 
singers  were  followed  by  the  old  play  of  St.  George  and 
the  Turk,  performed  by  village  lads.  Then,  in  the  clos- 
ing scenes  of  the  evening's  festivities.  Parson  Trant  pro- 


CHRISTMAS    IN    THE    OLD    HALL   383 

posed  his  favourite  hymn,  and  out  on  the  evening  air, 
echoing  even  far  beyond  the  walls  of  Trembath  Manor, 
the  mellow  voices  of  the  trained  singers,  the  piping  of 
childish  voices,  the  worn  voices  of  the  older  parties,  and 
the  music  of  the  droll's  orchestra  mingling  all  together, 
pealed  the  strains  of  Cowper's  hymn: 

"  God  moves  in  a  mysterious  way. 
His  wonders  to  perform. 
He  plants  his  footsteps  in  the  sea 
And  rides  upon  the  storm," 


THE    END 


All   Lovers    qf    Nature    Should    Read 

"Jay  Gould  Harmon" 

with 

Maine  Folks 


BY 

GEORGE  SELWYN  KIMBALL 

A  Be2fc.utiful            ^ 
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Ten 

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"QUINCY    ADAMS    SAWYER 


C.  M.  Clark  Publishing  Co.,  inc.,  Boston 


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Lords  of  the  Soil 

By  LYDIA  A.  JOCELYN  .  .  «iJ  .  .  NATHAN  J.  CUFFEE 

A   Story   of  Indian  Life  Among 
the  Early  English  Settlers.  ,  .  . 

Since  the  days  of  Pennimore  Cooper  there  has  been  no  Indian 
book  so  true  to  life,  as  brilliantly  written  or  as  interesting. 


10  rull-Page  Pictures  with  Colored 
Frontispiece  by  Ri,  B.  Shute 


4S0  pages  that  one  is  sure  to  read  with- 
out stopping. 


Mrs.  Joceljrn  has  championed  the  Indian  cause  in  ht  novel,   ♦ 
showing  in  vivid  colors  the  gross  injustice  and  rapacity  of 
the  early  white  settlers  in  their  treatment  of  the  magnani- 
mous and  unsuspecting  "  Lords  of  the  Soil." 


Price,      .     •     •     .     $1.50 


Sold  by  all  Booksellers  or  sent  postpaid  by  the  Publishers   on  receipt  of  price 


C.  M.  CLARK  PUBLISHING  CO..  Inc.. 
2 1 1  Tremont  Street^       ...       Boston^  Mass. 

^ I 


=   THE  = 

Baronet  Rag-Picker 

A  ROMANCE    OF    LOFE    AND    ADVENTURE 
By  CHARLES  S.  COOM 


MR.  COOM  HAS  WRITTEN  OF  CLEVER,  LOVABLE  PEOPLE 
SUCH  AS  WE  ALL  KNOW  IN  EVERY  DAY  LIFE      &      0 

C  TEN  Full-Page 
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C  380  Pages  of  most  C.  Bound    in    Silk 

interesting     reading  Cloth    stamped    in 

and  a  story  that  will  many  colors  making 

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attractive  Cover 

C  In  Paper,  Press- 
work  and  Typography 
it  is  the  climax  of 
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RETAIL   PRICE 


$1.50 


FOR    SALE    BY    ALL    BOOKSELLERS    OR  SENT   POSTPAID 
BY    THE     PUBLISHERS     ON    RECEIPT    OF    PRICE 


C.    M.    Clark    Publishing    Co.,    Inc. 
211  Tremont  St.  Boston,  Mass. 


Hope  Hathaway 


IS  ANOTHER  STRONG  WESTERN  STORY  OF  MONTANA  RANCH 
LIFE  BY  THE  AUTHOR  OF  "JTOarjic  of  t&e  Sotxjet  iRandb,"  AND 
WITH  EACH  COPr   THE   PUBLISHERS  ARE   GIVING 

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EighL  Stirring  Pictures 

BT 

Charles   M.   Russell 

The   Cowboy   Artist 

Tb»ae  pictures  are  the  exact  size  and  true  reproductions 
of  the  otigiaals  and  are  all  ready  tor  tramiag 


The  above  pictures  are  repro- 
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Price  of  Book  loid  Pictures,  II.50 

C.  M.  CLARK  PUBLISHING  CO.,  (i»c.) 


ECTU 


UC  SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 


A     000  787  125     4 


